Personal Narrative Analysis

Walking the overgrown paths in the expansive woods behind my house, I tried again to escape the claustrophobia of the cul-de-sac and the boredom of a small town. The forest was my sanctuary, and I walked knowing every rock, root, and bush. Then suddenly, it was different. My eyes hit the familiar clearing ahead, and I launched into a sprint through the underbrush, leaping up and over the barbed wire-topped rock wall. Landing with a whoop of delight, I eyed the novelty, a huge, brown steer, staring back at me. Molten joy turned to icy fear, and the steer began to charge. Thirty seconds of terror later, I noticed two things as I heaved against a maple tree: my now dung-covered shoes were ruined, and my curiosity was finally piqued.

“I’m going to win this time,” I declared proudly, ignoring my sister’s snickering. With our balmy hands interlocked, my sister stared intensely into my eyes until the sudden moment when our arm wrestling competition began. I pushed with all my might, believing that I could achieve the impossible victory. However, not three seconds after we started, my sister slammed my hand against the table. Forced to accept defeat once again, I wondered if I should ever expect differently fighting against an older sibling.

The worst thing that ever happened to me, turned into the best. When I was in the first grade I thought everything was fine. I had two friends, I loved my teacher and I thought all was well. What I didn’t realize was that I was falling behind in reading. At a parent-teacher conference, Mrs. Keys told my mom that I was dropping behind and that she reasoned it was a suitable idea if I was held back. My mom was devastated, she didn’t want her little girl to be having problems in school, but she also understood what it would mean if I was kept back. She tried every at home reading booster kit she could acquire to help me increase my reading level. Mrs. Keys could see the improvement but knew that I wasn’t quite at the level that I needed to be at to move on to

There comes a point in your life where mediocrity swallows you whole. Your sense of adventure sort of crumbles right in front of your eyes. You start living this terrible nine-to-five, sixty words-per-minute, small talk at the cubicle existence. How that managed to happen to me as a senior in college is beyond me, but I suppose crazier things have happened.

One may not always know her purpose until her only option is to monopolize in what she truly excels at. She is growing wearing of hearing the word “no” time and time again, so she turns to and cultivates monopolizes in her own talent which others cannot possibly subdue. Then Beyond the crowd of criticism and rejection, Freshman year the right people recognized my talent and I found my stage.”

In the picture above is a super sick selfie of my dog Sadie-Bee and I, she came into my life a couple of months ago and since then we have formed a bond that can never be broken. You see, I never really had a connection with animals until I met Bee, she's a special dog. In retrospect I didn't like animals at all really. We share many things in common I think that's why we get along so well, for example, we enjoy going to the beach and playing in the waves together, going to the park for a run, and most of all taking naps together. Juxtapose Sadie and I, were a perfect match. Sadie’s absolute favorite thing to do is going for car rides, in fact, she loves them so much, she will sit inside of my car while i’m cleaning it and she doesn’t get out

Every speaker has helped me construction a better understanding of earning a doctorate. I started listening to Sterling and Katie and thought, wow that is cool, and they are really smart and hardworking, and then transformed my approach to the speakers when Jackie and Mark came to speak with us. During Jackie and Mark’s presentation, something changed. I no longer felt like earning this degree was out of my reach. They both told us many times that we too could earn a doctorate. Something about their sincerity made me believe that it was true; I am smart enough, I am dedicated enough to earn a doctorate. This changed my purpose for all the presenters that followed. Each speaker since has helped me map my dissertation schedule and topic.

I thought this was going to be the best decision of my life, but the first week of my five-month journey told me otherwise. It began with a 12-hour drive to Ames, Iowa, and while most of you may not even know where Iowa is I’ll put it in perspective: from Texas, you have to take I-35N through Oklahoma, Kansas, and Missouri to finally reach the state of Iowa. During this drive, my parents constantly asked me if this was really the right decision and all listed the financial consequences that came with going to an out of state university. To make matters worse, I left my Kindle at the hotel that we stayed at in Kansas and had forgotten to pack my pillows along with a few other essential items which didn’t help my case about being responsible in front of my parents.

It is this time of the year where I like to add an element of surprise to our reading groups. I noticed that when it comes to our fiction text there’s seemed to be a struggle in retelling and interpreting literary devices we are encountering. From our group discussions, my kids do way better with nonfiction than fiction. The funny part is they find fiction to be easier than nonfiction. I’m still trying to process why they perceive that.

It took two weeks to make a decision. I would give one up. Keep the other. At first it seemed easy, just don't get attached. The last week has proven this difficult, because no matter how hard I tried, the thought of my life now consisted of two babies. I tried hard to keep them out of my head, I know I'd never go through with it if I didn't. Of course I always wanted kids, and any other situation this would be my dream, but the fear of hurting them overpowered that and instead of bonding I spent 6 months obsessively trying to forget there were two. I went to my appointments, knew they were both healthy, I knew they were both girls and now I knew, days from giving birth that giving her up was going to be the hardest thing I could think of,

As I was driving home from work late one night on a busy road in Ohio I was feeling discomfort in my lower abdomen. Knowing that I was 39 weeks pregnant I really didn’t think much about it. I thought I just had a rough day at work where I lift and tug on the elderly as a CNA. I went home and hopped into the bathtub. The warm water felt great on my joints and I felt my conclusion was right. As my husband, Bobby walked in he could see the discomfort on my face. “Are you OK,” he asked. “Yes, I have just had a hard day at work.” I replied. We get ready for bed, it is now midnight on Feb. 9, 2005.

It was the end of 6th grade, one of the most anticipating times of one’s childhood that marked the beginning of what my older sister referred to as, “junior high - the worst years of every poor kid’s life.” I knew I had to pick a school, as my parents had told me about GCA and how it would offer me a greater challenge than South Valley made it’s way to my elementary school, and that’s when I decided I had to get my hands on it and just enroll to the school that would prepare me the most. The more I looked into it I had realized that this school was really all about challenging yourself and pushing yourself to do more. But in all honesty, I wasn't sure if I wanted to put in all that extra effort.

It was right in front of me, staring me straight in the face, I was sweating like a turkey on Christmas Eve. I heard the loud “BANG” of the gun and the pounding of feet all around me, I had to run even though I felt like I was going to throw up the little food I had eaten in preparation. This cross country course was a huge monster ready to take me and all of my hard work throughout the summer down, if I was willing to let it get to me.

Glancing at the keys and nodding, he set the metronome and tapped his foot getting the beat physically and let his fingers glide over the keys. Letting the music seep into him as he had played the complex piece over and over again demanding himself to be perfect. Striking each key was perfectly timed and showed the emotion he had made it sound sharp and crisp. Steve kept nodding as he then glanced downward he saw the ivory keys along with his fingers coated in a rich scarlet hue. His fingers bleeding. The pain shot through his fingers as the heat engulfed the slender fingers . It was the fire again! Attempting to put the fire out that now chewed at not only his fingers but the piano as well it only ended with the man sitting up in a blind

There are few people in this world who can say they are the oldest of nine kids, have ADHD and a 4.1 GPA, or live on a small farm with animals. I, however, embody all of these extraordinary traits, even in addition to left-handedness and extreme far-sightedness! How is that for recessive genes? Yet I believe that my uniqueness, more importantly, has shaped me with strong character and fortitude.