Personal Narrative: A Place In The Ghetto Area Of Cloverdales

grew up in Chicago, Illinois, a beautiful city surrounded by violence and controversy by the media. I found things more simple when I was kid growing up here, there wasn't much to worry about but as I got older things became more complex here. The sounds of the " L "' or as you know it as, The Train, and the roaring sounds of cars passing by my house made me feel alive while growing up and as a matter of fact still does. You could wake up in the morning and see the vibrant blue skies being pierced by the skyscrapers and see other kids playing ball or riding their bikes. When it was summer time I would play ins sprinklers or go downtown and play in the fountains with my family. Of course, like most big cities I had to watch my back while growing up because you never knew what somebody was up to. It's weird really growing up here because you never know what's going to happen next , wether it's a good thing or a bad thing. All I can really say about growing up in Chicago is that if I had the chance to redo it, I'd do if a million times.

When people ask me where I am from and I say Cleveland, they often react as if I had said “vanilla.” But if I say Believeland, they perk up and typically want to hear more.

It was a small town in Cornersville, Ohio. Nothing much ever happened in this small town until one day. A new family moved in one afternoon. Everyone was surprised because no one even noticed the house being built. Everyone was still delighted that they moved in because the couple, Bob and Nancy, were very friendly. Bob and Nancy helped with all the activities in town and were very generous. A couple of weeks after they moved in, a lot of strange things began. Money started disappearing, the lights in the town went out every night except for Bob and Nancy's lights, even people's pets went missing. One night, everyone's lights went out at 11:30 as usual, except there was an extremely loud noise. The neighbors went outside to see where all the

It was April of 1999. My family was at home. Children were running outside. The asphalt was burning. Cars rolled up to the entrance of the apartments and BANG. I grew up in Stockton, California. Surprisingly, as a minority, I wasn’t really a minority. There were, in fact, a large and diverse population of Asian-Americans. But, Stockton is not the ideal place to live. It was hot and dry, almost to the point of a drought. Stockton was also ranked as the one of the top 5 most dangerous cities in California. So, having a nice and safe family is kind of difficult. Eventually, my family decided to move to Crescent City, California when my dad retired. It was a world of difference. There were trees, plentiful water, and a nice cool temperature. This

Growing up in the Chicago area was a great experience for me, I was always a good kid but I had always struggled in school. The reason that I had a hard time in school was that I had A.D.D which was the cause of my distraction. Entering Pritzker College Prep was a different experience for me because I was overwhelmed, the reason as to why I felt overwhelmed was because of the amount of homework we got. I ended up spending nights where I would do my homework and wouldn’t get a sufficient amount of sleep and would also cause me to fall asleep in class. My grades started to drop which caused me to stop caring in school, so I also decided to just stop doing my homework and it caused a decrease in my grades.

Hello, reading over your discussion about growing up in Inglewood California brings to mind my African American co-worker who talks about living in Compton. She tells us often how growing up in that area you had to carry either a gun or a knife and be on guard whenever you go anywhere. She is a very dear friend of mine and she reminds me she is a changed person from the way she used to be. Her mother still lives in California but in a better neighborhood now but she is planning a trip to see her mother. My friend often tells me years ago she and I would have never gotten along because she had so much anger inside her. I am glad my friend did get out of that neighborhood alive and somehow found in her heart to not keep anger inside.

Deej Logan was just like any normal high school girl. She woke up on her first day of school and combed her hair, picked out the “perfect” outfit and headed out the door. What she didn’t know is that after that day nothing would be the same. Nothing that day seemed to be going right. At school drama was swarming all around her, not exactly what she hoped the first day would be like. By the time the last bell of the day rang she was more than happy to get out of that school. She drove home as quickly as she could but as soon as she got home she realized that she had forgotten to pick up her sisters. “Great.” She thought sarcastically as she sat back down in her car and drove off. Just then she pulled out her phone to message one of her friends about her awful day. That one decision changed everything. Before she had a chance to send the message Deej veered off into oncoming traffic and was killed on impact.

New York is a state where there are big lights and lots of people and busy streets. I live in Brooklyn, New York and I was born here and I have lived here all my life. Personally, where I live I can walk to go get groceries that I need and everything is in walking distance. I take the public subway or the bus to get to school and there are many public schools here in Brooklyn, New York. There are delis and corner stores almost around every block. Here in Brooklyn, it is very noisy and busy. I am so used to the noise that I can sleep soundly even with all the noise that surrounds my house. Personally, I think that if I were not born here or was not a New Yorker, I would plan to move here when I get older.

I have written many essays since I was in middle school yet most of my writing was not that important besides for a grade. Yet there is one piece of writing I wrote that change my life and felt that it had an important impact to The City of Chicago. My teacher during that time wanted the class to enter in a citywide competition, which is called “Do The Write Thing”. It is a way for students to voice their opinions on how to stop the violence in Chicago. I wanted to help reduce the violence in Chicago since many youths are being killed in the streets every single day. In my paper, I mainly focused on three body paragraphs. The first one was why the violence in the city was increasing. The second one was some type of violence that I have witness in my own personal life. The final paragraph

I witnessed my cousins boyfriend corpse lying on my neighbors lawn. It was a humid summer night around 3:30 when I peeked through my window and saw my devastated cousin sobbing uncontrollably on my decaying porch. Being from East chicago, Indiana has transformed me into the person I am today.

You, a “Chicago kid” as a good friend keeps telling me, are going to have a big change in your life. That sounded like I was some cheesy fortune cookie but it is true. You have decided to go to the suburban area and go to that school full of white people. Oh and do you remember that lady who thought you came from another country when you went with your mom? Yep, that’s the high school you are going to. Anyway, check out this sacred wizardry that I have discovered to get good, or at least, decent grades in a middle school that took steroids.

I keep running from one to another. The rooms are big with white walls and ceilings. Here and there bright colors decorate the walls. Small groups of people converse over their opinions. Children reach out to touch and their mothers pull them in, smacking their hands and telling them no. I stop and spin around, trying to absorb everything around me. Then I stop and stare.

The word “Ghettos” was used in the middle ages and meant a segregated area away from a city where some were forced to live. The word and idea was revived by Hitler and his men. The Ghettos had many uses and each different from the other. One thing that remained the same was the injustices towards the Jews. Some Ghettos were used as holding grounds, for those who were soon headed to concentration camps.

I felt the bumping and heard the bus frame squeal quietly as we were on the journey to destination. We were in Detroit, Michigan for a mission trip. It was a new place full of new things for me to experience. And the most eye-opening experience for me was when we helped a neighborhood clean out a disastrous and neglected alley.

In the town of South Lake Tahoe, children played safely outside, the sun always seemed to be shining, and laughter was a common sound. Everyone knew one another and crime ratings were close to zero. Due to the town’s “child-friendly” nature, the Dugard family called this place home (Hawkins). However, on June 10, 1991, a fiery nightmare exploded into reality for eleven year-old Jaycee Dugard. Walking towards the bus stop, Jaycee was dragged into a grey sedan (Hawkins). Jaycee’s stepfather Carl Probyn witnessed this gut-wrenching act from down the street and tried unsuccessfully to trail the car on a bike. (Tresniowski). Jaycee’s mother, Terry, lost control of her emotions after her daughter’s