Personal Narrative: A Day At The East Race

It was a nice summer morning we I was all of a suden shoke like turbulence on a plane to wake up. It turns out I slept threw my alarm to wake up for the day. It was about 11:00 am and today we were heading to Florida and our flight takes off at 1:00 pm. You may think that we had time to make the airport in Milwaukee but, we had to drive all the way to Chicago, Illinois because there was no flight for Florida in Milwaukee. Luckily I had packed the day before with the rest of my family so all we had to do was wait for our aunt Lisa to take us to the aiport in Chicago. She showed up five minutes later with a mini van and there was about seven of us jammed in there. It was alright for me because in our family if you called “shot-gun” or “I

Have you ever been in a situation where you didn’t think you could do it? Well I have many times and I’m going to write about a time during Rodeo when I didn’t think I was going to be able to do well in goat tying.

The worker contacted Misty Black who is a friend of Brittany Hardin. Mrs. Black stated “Brittany was in a situation where her ex (well she told me they were already broken up at the time) had assaulted her. Brittany had called me after Ronita Grady had hit her so I immediately called the police and made my way to Brittany. When I arrived the OCPD were already there speaking to Brittany. The officers also spoke to me and I told him I was the one who called them. After the police left Brittany and the boys stayed with me for a couple days because Brittany was still shaken up. The boys all seemed okay, I don’t think they really knew what had just happened. Brittany thanked me for helping her, because at the time we weren’t really speaking to

It all began in the year 1955. This was the year that so many great things shook the foundation of America that will never be forgotten for years and years to come. My name is Joyce Norman I was a military brat that was born and raised in the small town of Fayetteville, North Carolina along with one brother and four sisters. To show a little humor, this is another place like Texas that has bipolar weather from sunny skies with a hint of rain to a giant blizzard that’ll give you a death of pneumonia. Throughout, the years of my life as an African American we heard songs of change, we were insured and inspired in church that change would come some way or another either in the community or in our nation. As the world continued to change I

The last few weeks were worse than I could have ever imagined. If I had known what it this job would consist of I might not have taken it in the first place. I sailed to Africa with the crew, expecting to pick up cargo when, to my shock, it turns out we were bringing a more alive supply of 140 young African slaves. Why do people want slaves anyway? I had questioned Mr. Slater with this. “They’re better with agriculture and cattle, ” he had replied. “The Indians are no good… they’re all dead, ahahaha.” I did not have the energy to tell him why his joke was grossly unfunny. He strangely did not recognize even a slight problem with forcing people to work for us, just because they had immunities to our diseases and their government allowed it.

At the sleep away camp that I attended this summer, I was appointed "General" for an all camp activity known as Color War. For four days, the camp is divided into two teams that compete against each other in athletics and other competitive activities. Having been selected out of 400+ campers to take on this elite position was such an honor - I cried tears of happiness. While acting general was extremely rewarding, it quickly became a challenge. Carrying the responsibility to lead cheers, hold team meetings, while making sure the people I led were happy and enjoying the most exciting days of camp was nothing short of nerve-racking. However, every challenge I faced during those four days made each experience that more rewarding , even if my

I interviewed an African American male in his 50s. This means he is in the middle adulthood stage of life. One of the biggest challenges that he faces is being black in America. He seemed to have a whole lot to say about this concept and struggle that he faces. Every day, all over the country, criminal activity is happening at a seemingly higher and higher rate. The evil that inhabits the globe can never be ended. There are few people, still, who choose to try. The police, the government, the news teams, all of these groups of people are supposedly dedicated to awareness and driven to push crime down to a minimum by alerting the people and keeping the peace. A self-governing species as they are, humans are prone to error, fallibility, and imperfection,

The way the story begins is probably the same as others. Obviously you are born and raised somewhere. Well my story began in Worcester Massachusetts. I was born on January 15th, 1995, to wonderful parents who people might think is not your usual mix. My mother is from the Dominican Republic and my father is from Ecuador. Yes, I know, the weirdest mix ever but it brought me into this world, so I'm proud.

I grew up here in the U.S.A and my parents from the U.S also. I live in an ethnically diverse community that the residents show a deeper understanding of their ancestry’s culture. The term of senses that I witness is sight and audio. Since on the daily basis I hear, people speak other languages such as Spanish, Korean, Chinese, Hindi, Arabic, French, and Japanese. In the term of sight, I see who are from Asian background bow to each, African American nod at each other when walking pass, and people just slight smiling at each other. From my culture since I am African American we really do not that many of greeting each other. We would slight nod or smile and make eye contact or for the males who do a doing the handshake and shoulder bump maneuver.

Every person identity with their known heritage. For myself, I identity myself as African American or black because that is what I have been told for a young age I should identity with. I am envious of everyone who can trace their heritage back and proudly pronounce their ethnic group instead of using a generic term for their racial group. For example, my supervisor is Spanish and German but raised in France. The scenic designer is Portuguese and English. Lastly, an assistant stage manager is British but was raised in American.

I have been taken by rival a tribe from my homeland and since sold to outsider white men. I have done no wrongs in my lifetime. I have served an honest life doing my upmost to provide for my family and tribe. Now, I find myself restrained in this horrific place. I am laying in not only my own feces, but the feces of nearly 100 others. I am restrained to the floor of this boat with many others that look very similar to me, yet I cannot understand them. The man to my left will not stop sobbing and speaking in what sounds like gibberish to me. Every so often he gets so enthusiastic with his sorrows that one of the white men comes down and beats him within an inch of his life, he too yelling in a language I do not

In September of my Junior year I had a concussion due to a fall while running. I missed two weeks of school and had to take a break from running. I eased back into school starting with partial days, and, after more rest, I eased back into running. I worked hard to catch up on the work I missed in my classes and to rebuild the strength and stamina I lost from my break in running. For my classes, I sought help from my teachers and worked hard, taking one day at at a time, and I finished the semester with A's and B's.

Most people would look at my tall, slender frame of African American descent and assume what my most favorite food items are. The majority of people probably think that my daily meal consists of crispy fried chicken, collard greens, and to top it off would be an oven-baked sweet potato pie. Well, they have sadly mistaken because when it comes to food I sometimes tend to step out of the conventional image of my people. My favorite foods-pecan pie, spaghetti, sushi-accurately expresses my personality.

The date is April 8, 2033. The world and the population as we knew it are gone. It all started 13 years ago when the democratic election of 2020 took place. I was just a novice reporter at the time. During Donald Trump’s speech to become re-elected there was an earthquake that opened up the earth with great magnitude and consumed him and the stage like a hamburger. The earth quickly closed up and he was gone, there were no remnants of him except for his hair.

Hey if I have a chance to see you again, I'd say I forgive you for bullying