Personal Narrative Analysis

Throughout the past year I went through a great deal of undertakings that caused me to become more experienced with my skills and how to overcome various challenges. These really built up my character and the way I am today. In all aspects, this past year consisted of going to Killington, Vermont, my brother going into the Air Force, meeting him in Texas for his graduation of basic training, completing a double backflip on a trampoline, landing a front flip on flat ground, accomplishment of a 2 ½ front flip on a diving board, getting 2nd at leagues, and competing in districts. All of these activities have advanced me in a skill or challenged me to an extent.

For many, their formative years have a large influence on who they become as adults. This can happen in many different ways including new experiences, discovering a new sport or hobby, and uncovering what they are passionate about. For me, this was falling in love with a new language from a very young age and becoming very interested in the culture that was associated with it.

Failure is truly negative if we choose to not learn from it. When we face setbacks and difficulties, we are given golden opportunities to grow as people. Learning from our shortcomings makes us wiser, stronger, and unveils a chance to turn an undesirable outcome into a building block of character. My hockey career has been a sinusoidal trail of highs and lows, but I always learned from the downturns.

As a 16 year old young man, when I think about responding to a writing prompt asking me to describe an event that I consider a launch pad towards gaining maturation, the first things that should come to my mind are getting my first job, graduating from high school, or being accepted into the college of my choice. This was not the case for me. The event that I feel has marked my transition from childhood to manhood would be the conversation that my mother had with me after the shooting death of Trayvon Martin.

Back when I still wore pigtails, I remember always feeling like an afterthought by my parents. I understood why, and it was justifiable. Since I was the eldest, and my younger brother was put on the autism spectrum, I knew I had to grow up extra quick, for Father always worked and Mother had her plate full, trying to raise us. I would do my chores without being asked and do my homework without needing help, just so Mother could have one less child to worry about. My brother, however, had to have everything done for him. He even needed Mother to brush his pearly whites for him. It was just one more duty to add to the infinite list of responsibilities Mother had to do for my brother.

A gentleman in his mid sixties was lying on the operating table. "You can rest outside if you want", said the cardiac surgeon while looking into my eyes. Preoccupied with the patient's picture before anesthesia, I struggled to swallow my worries and fulfill my promise to him to stay close throughout the operation. It was not much time until the potassium mixture was infused and the heart was sucked out of spirit. Over the next two hours, my mind and body were stretched to their limits. Despite being captivated by the precision with which the staff manipulated the grafts with the coronary arteries, I wasn't able to break the countless thoughts and apprehensions that riddled my head. As the blood was re-pumped into the heart, the flat line on

The paradox of human nature is driven by the paramountcy of competition. Whether biological as powered by evolution, or modern as in the case of college admission, competition galvanizes progress. The simple fact that elite colleges are becoming more selective due to the large number of competitive students demonstrates this. Resolution is not earned without the conflict that precedes it; therefore, even defeat should be treated as an opportunity for improvement, as it is all we can really do.

A reoccurring circumstance in my life that I have been apart of for the last couple of years is competing on a cross-country team. For me, running is both exercise and a metaphor. Running day after day, piling up the races, bit-by-bit I raise the bar, and by clearing each level I elevate myself. At least that’s why I’ve put in the effort day after day: to raise my own level. Racing for me hasn’t always been this crystal clear. When I first started running there were the wind sprints, suicides, mile runs, max-out days, and the months of conditioning that made me wonder why as athletes we keep giving a 110 percent day in and day out.

I have learned throughout the years that I am a person who gets nervous easily. Whether it is a speech, difficult test, or sports game I can count on the fact that I will be nervous, no matter the context. For me there are two things that I constantly worry about in these situations; the many possible bad outcomes, and the hype that comes before any of these situations. For example, when I was younger and had to go get a shot I would always stress about it leading all the way up to the shot. My mom would always say that the build-up is worse than the actual event. But, by over exaggerating the pain I thought I would feel, I validated my claim that shots are stressful. She was right, the shot and the accompanying pain were gone in ten minutes.

I sat in my room paralyzed with anxiousness. Mr. Chappuis had told us the grades would be in by 5:00 pm, but it was already nearing 6 o'clock. I tapped my fingers on the desk more rapidly as my thoughts began to wander to the fear that was in my mind as the test was placed on my desk. I gripped my chair thinking about all the questions I had answered without a clue of the true response. A shock went down my spine as I began to realize the impact this exam would have on my final french grade. The sun’s final rays danced across the sky as I was still focused on refreshing my computer every several seconds. When I could almost no longer bare it, I saw my grade flash up on the screen in large blue print. I could not conceive of what had happened!

As I become aware of the different issues that are happening in Puerto Rico and the rest of the world, I realize the duty we all have to be part of the solution; as a result, this summer I dedicated some of my time to community service. Even though, I had participated in some causes with my school, it was not until this summer that I discovered how rewarding it is to help others. I volunteered in the Food Bank of Puerto Rico (Feeding America), the American Red Cross and Puerto Rico Therapy Dogs. Each of the causes is special in their own way and I really enjoyed working with them.

Hartford, SD, the town that I am from, is a pretty small town with about seven churches. My family attends the Lutheran church nearly every Sunday and even sits in the same spot every week. When I was younger, I attended daycare and elementary school with kids who attended churches of different denominations. We would go through our days without discussing our differences. My parents would never discourage my sister and I from interacting with children who went to other churches. In fact, if we had a sleepover on a Saturday night with a friend, my parents said it was okay to go to their church the next morning. This allowed us to see what the different denominations looked like but we were young and often thought that it was all the same. Middle

We got in the car excited of what would come next. I knew this year would be better than last year. Me and my brothers set our goal for how many tickets we would earn. When the desired moment finally arrived we got out of the car, and walked through the parking lot. The cold breeze up against our shoulders like diving into a pool with a frigid temperature, I mean, after all, it was Christmas day. When we opened the double doors to the building we saw it, the big shiny metal door, and we all got overjoyed.

I was writing the following post and came to a deep understanding. My mind corrected itself and instantly I feel better. I’m amazed by how much I’ve progressed in the last four months. I thought it might be helpful to read my thoughts and how I changed them from being negative.

It has been a while since I have been truly embarrassed in public. I vaguely remember walking straight into a wall of glass, which obviously hurt a lot. The embarrassing part was not the action itself; it was the looks I received from a group of teenagers standing further down the hall. I felt incredibly stupid for walking into a wall and my face hurt so badly, the last thing I ever wanted was hysteric laughter and fingers pointing at me.