Personal Narrative: A Metaphor Of Diversity

I grew up in rural Indiana with three brothers. Our family was a little different than most because all of us children had been adopted. The oldest of us, Andy, was two years older and had cystic fibrosis which meant he probably wouldn’t live to be 30 or more. The remaining three of us were biologically brothers. Triplets in fact. Our parents adopted all three of us together for some brave reason. I used to joke that there was a buy one get two free sale at the adoption agency and that I was the only one they actually wanted. It was never hidden from us that we were adopted, but it always left me feeling that I didn’t quite belong in certain family functions. I wanted to feel like I belonged in my environment. The military

I was born and raised in the small but growing city of Perris, CA. This isn’t the best city out there but it tends to grow on you, and you begin to truly love it for what it is. The people, however, not so much. The community can vary from which part of the city you’re in. That’s because there’s diversity here in Perris. I’m a product of this diversity, being half Mexican and half African American. My parents fell in love after high school and later on began a family. I am the youngest of five. I have two older brothers, an older sister, and an older cousin who lives with us. The order is boy, girl, boy, boy, girl with my cousin being included in there too. We all live in the same house with my parents and are quite close with each other. They all seem to have raised me growing up due to the fact that my parents were busy trying to provide for us. This was a challenge by itself, resulting in lots of house moving and my father being unemployed for six years after losing his job. I never complained about moving because I knew that my parents were doing their absolute best and were working with all that they had and then some. This unquestionably made me adaptable to new environments and gave me a

17 years. I have been on this Earth for 17 years now. Looking back on the years I’ve already spent make me wonder, not who I’ve been nor who I am now, but who I will be. I choose to live in the now, for the later. I often think about what I may be or do later in life. But everything I do and every choice I make in the present is what will lead me to my future. Now, all I know is that to get somewhere you have to be someone. So who am I? And what makes me who I am today?

In today’s society we all are trying to find a place in which we belong. We tend to surround ourselves with people who we share a common interest with. Finding a community is a goal that several humans have, we spend most of our lives trying to fit into society in one form or another. Some people are not always successful but the ones that find their own community are the lucky one. Luckily I am apart of that group. Ever since I was younger I have participated it sports, like soccer, field hockey also track and field. In each sport I have found the value of community and the importance of creating healthy relationships. However, between all of the sports I have played track and field would have to be the one where I truly feel at home. In the eighth grade I threw away my soccer cleats and traded them in for track spikes. Before I joined track I never knew how much went into it. The average person may think all track runners just run around in circles for fun. But, there is so much more to it, in order to be successful in

The world is over 196 million square miles that is home to over 7 billion people all with unique qualities and backgrounds. Me being a caucasian living in Lakewood Colorado I lived though the generic lifestyle of a christian. Church every Sunday and quiet family meals were normal for us but what I didn’t realise was that there was a whole world of ethnically and culturally different people just an ocean away.

Her father’s words echoed through her head as one might hear a reverberation throughout the Taj Mahal. Continuous. Chilling. Having no control to distill the wavelengths until they mellowed out on their own accord. She tried to anatomize the depth of his phrase, more than dutifully needed but Davina needed to know why. Why did she need to keep an open mind and more importantly, who the hell was about to come bursting through that door. But then again, did it really matter in the first place. When she thought about it, the brunette could have laughed at the idea. That an unattributed, faceless figure had her panties in a bunch. Surely Dominic wouldn’t think to waste her time with venial diversions,

I quickly swallowed my homemade authentic Indian food leftovers and gulped down my chocolate milk. Looking down at my watch that read 11:28am, I knew that I only had two minutes until my most favorite part of the day: recess. This particular day in 5th grade, I had run a lap around the playground before getting the rest of recess to myself. As I started walking for my warmup, another student ran up and said, “My parents said that your people caused 9/11.” Completely caught off guard, I held back the tears in my eyes and tried to shake off his comment. I had never encountered something like this.

The front range of Colorado has a large diversity of cultural populations represented. Therefore, as a professional counselor it is my responsibility to educate myself on the cultures I am likely to be working with. Since there is such a diverse population there is no way I am going to know everything about everyone’s culture. Although, I do know the cultures of the majority populations that frequent the agency I am currently working. Since I am working with populations I would be aware of the societal issues they are facing and the oppression they have been and are up against. Therefore, this allows me to immerse myself into their culture, learning and seeing firsthand the oppression and prejudices they face in the community in which we

My definition of diversity is acceptances of people with different culture, ethnicity, gender, economic status and background. Diversity means that my ideas will be represented to achieve a common goal. At 9 years old, I left my malaria- infested country to come to the United States. My first day of school was overwhelming I have never seen so many different shades of skin color. All I have been accustomed to was shades of brown in my country. I was now the odd ball in a room of strangers. I immediately played the role of mute. There were other kids that had my skin color in the classroom, but I was the only African. My identity was obvious, tallest in my class with long skinny limbs and an unhealthy looking weight that led one to believe

I grew up in a community where I rarely see people who look like me. What I mean by look like me, I mean Asians around my community. I live in Brighton Park, the southwest side of Chicago, where I am surrounded by Hispanics and no one else. I have gotten to learn about the Hispanic culture and their lifestyles since my entire life has been surrounded by their spirits. Even though I am not Hispanic, the community welcomes me and my family into their home like we are family. As much as I love my community, it is not very diverse, making me more ignorant since I do not interact with any other races.

I have had many life experiences which have helped me foster an understanding of diversity. When I was in the military I was stationed in South Korea and I experienced diversity on a major scale. For once in my life I was considered the minority. However, the strongest experience I have with diversity was growing up with a mother with a developmental disability, this life experience taught me to be accepting of others. It is a social worker’s primary responsibility to respect the inherent dignity and worth of a person. I believe that I had this social work value instilled in me when I was a child. From a young age, I have been very accepting of people with disabilities in the local community. The exposure to this world has also influenced

Sometimes there are books that are so hyped up that you just wonder if they're really all that good. Sometimes you find yourself disappointed, the only person out of your bookish friends who dislikes said book. Other times, you find yourself amidst the endless number of fangirls and fanboys, and you join them in shouting praises of the book off the nearest rooftop. For me, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda was the latter.

Growing up, I was usually surrounded by white American culture and as a result was often the person that added an element of diversity. As a part of a small group of students from different ethnic and cultural backgrounds, I ended up with the unenviable task of representing the country of India to my fellow classmates and peers. Despite the fact that I was born in Brooklyn, I was the token Indian friend, fielding questions on the acceptability of wearing bindis and applying mehendi for fun.

​Failure can present itself in many different flavors. The bitterest for me being when I failed to act. I had a black friend who was maliciously slandered by others in my school. I had no idea of the severity of the situation. While in a Ashland, a small town in a predominantly liberal Massachusetts, it didn't seem likely that racially charged verbal abuse would have ever been a latent threat at my school. He was harassed and accosted so much he transferred schools, but only after this was anything done about it.

Reflecting back to my undergraduate days was my first real experience of diversity. There were several different ladies in the dorm with me from very many different cultures. I learned so much from talking to the ladies that spoke English. I was so amazed with the different experiences I had. Life was becoming very vast just like my parents said it would be. I happily embraced everyone differences regardless of religion, political, social class, or ethnicity. I was always taught to treat the janitor of a building the same way you would a CEO, with respect. Never look down on anyone unless you are kneeling down to pray.