Personal Narrative Analysis

As I was arriving to the park, I could see many goal posts. I looked myself and I thought, "Dang! This is really happening." I was still nervous to play an actual game. I played a few practice games against my own teammates and sometimes against my brothers. I was comfortable playing against them because constantly playing against them got me accustomed to the way they played, but playing a whole different team was spooky because I didn't know how they played and or how good they were.

The quote Alice Walker once stated, "For in the end, freedom is a personal and lonely battle and one faces down fears of today so that those of tomorrow might be engaged" is a valuable saying and I totally relate with it. What freedom means to one may not be the same for another and has a personal meaning. Fear is an obstacle to freedom and progress. As clouds need to be blown away to reveal the sunlight, the cloud of fear should be torn apart to feel the warmth of freedom. This quote reminds me of a time when my fear of falling apart of my family and underestimating my academic potentials were inhibiting me from enjoying the freedom of stepping into the path of higher education until I decided to join Morgan State University, because no one was going to free me unless I free myself.

“Great! Tomorrow I will teach you car washing. By the way, you can call me Eric for short.”

In my sixteen years of existence, I’ve had plenty of fun, exciting high points where I feel like nothing in the world can drag me down. However, along with those amazing times, my worst ones were always to eventually follow, like it did my sophomore year when I had a choir performance in Visalia with some of my favorite friends and amazing teacher. It was most definitely a high for me. A little over twenty-four hours after, I had fallen off the roller coaster that was my happiness and hit the concrete.

There I was, a ten-year-old all alone on the school’s make-shift football field during recess. The school year was young and the summery North Carolina air was seemingly inescapable. Practically blinded from the sun’s rays I squinted as the other fourth grade boys argued over what team I would soon have to dreadfully play on. Clearly I wasn’t as athletic as my peers, at the time I let this define me. Like any fourth grader I attempted to fit in, I mean who wouldn’t? There a comfort associated with the herd mentality we all fall into. During my fourth grader year I slowly fell into isolation, though I didn’t realize at the time. When the other Dad’s were playing catch with their son’s my dad sharing insight into his experience in business and

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,

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.

I was born a flimsy, colorful piece of paperboard. I still remember unknown figures supplanting the empty spaces in my body with vital chocolate organs. The rest was just a blur. I woke up about a week later in a drug store. All I saw was a barren aisle with nothing, but people similar to me. Then, I saw a child jumping and pointing, at me! His mom spotted me as well and grabbed me. I fainted and woke up later secured to a wall. But then, something ghastly happened. The child opened one of my flaps and ate one of my organs. I felt violated; some may say exposed. I thought this behavior was over, but it didn’t stop. Day after day this child incessantly consumed parts of me I would never have again. This needed to stop, but it never would. For

The past two years have been kind of a roller coaster for me. I was in a really good relationship with God, so much that if I were to stray off my path even a little bit, he would find a way to get me back on it. Whether that be a message from my pastor, something a friend says, or something I see. In April of 2017, one of my best friends past away. I trusted that God had a plan and that this is how my friend's plan was meant to be. I just didn't know how to move on from it. In the following couple months I fell short of Christ. I began to stop doing my day to day actions that defined me as a Christian. I began going through things that never would have happened if I were a strong Christian like before. God then began working in my life and

When you expand your outlook, experiences quickly become challenging. This lesson came to me during soccer, a shift made more notable due to my passion for it. When I made the travel team at age ten, it seemed the only direction was upward. I stood on the pride of my past, yet the heightened competition buried my previous precociousness; games went from hat tricks to bench warming. Team practices were not enough--I was going to have to put in extra time and work.

In the midst of my kindergarten school year, my parents sent me to a taekwondo school to take self-defense lessons. Originally just intending to fix my posture, they were soon surprised when I chose to stay after the first couple of lessons. I had fallen in love with the sense of power and strength behind the sport, as a hot-headed six-year-old searching for a way to let off steam and excessive energy. However, it was not long before I began to appreciate the martial art for what it was, an art form and a matter of discipline, not just a manner of fighting or purely a sport.

Though I knew I played well, a feeling of being rejected led me to become diffident of my abilities. When no one thought I could play well, it made me lose confidence in myself. I feared that I would make a mistake and then I would become a laughing-stock. That fear lowered the drive that I needed every time I played.