Personal Narrative: Becoming A Successful African American Student

I believe I ended up where I am in my life right now, writing about women because I hold strongly the idea that women need to lift one another up; it’s a basic tenet of my being a woman. So, when I get the opportunity to make a change, howbeit little, I’m all for it.

All throughout time people have been “the other.” Pratt refers to the other as being “Someone who is perceived by the dominant culture as not belonging, as they have been

It was only a year ago when I was faced with making a very important decision that would affect me for the rest of my life. It was time for me to choose an institution of higher learning to continue my studies that would eventually lead me to my career. My decision wasn’t simply which university or college to choose, but as a young black student, whether to choose a Historically Black College or University (HBCU) or a Predominately White Institution (PWI). This would take me on an insightful journey and I would make my decision after discussing the pros and cons of both institutions and through interactions with students, faculty and staff. Before too long

Today was a great day, it was time for someone to make a change. Four African American college students were brave enough to start the change and they were Blair, Richmond, McCain and McNeil, they attend the same college as I do, but I don’t really talk to them as I might get caught from the professors or even my peers and can get a beaten.

I'm not going to call myself a product junkie, but I do love trying out new products. After all, how would you know if you're going to love something if you don't try it? That's just my philosophy and one that I use with everything. I always say "I'm willing to try anything at least one time". When it comes to hair care products however, I'm really picky in what I put in our hair. Being African-American or Caribbean-American as I like to say, it's an entire different ballgame. As you may or may not know, we all have different hair textures throughout our entire head, and even my own kids, their hair are as different as night and day. Kyle my oldest son has the curliest hair of the bunch, with his curls being a lot looser which Mikael has the tightest curls you'll ever see. Kristal's curls aren't as loose as Kyle's but they're

I am a spoiled rich kid. I live in an upper middle class town located in one of the prosperous countries in the world. I attend to a competitive school with qualified teachers who care about their students. I have seemingly endless opportunity to participate in my community or gain experience in a job. I have fair skin, living in a world where is being Caucasian is advantageous.

I interviewed an African American male in his 50s. This means he is in the middle adulthood stage of life. One of the biggest challenges that he faces is being black in America. He seemed to have a whole lot to say about this concept and struggle that he faces. Every day, all over the country, criminal activity is happening at a seemingly higher and higher rate. The evil that inhabits the globe can never be ended. There are few people, still, who choose to try. The police, the government, the news teams, all of these groups of people are supposedly dedicated to awareness and driven to push crime down to a minimum by alerting the people and keeping the peace. A self-governing species as they are, humans are prone to error, fallibility, and imperfection,

Every person identity with their known heritage. For myself, I identity myself as African American or black because that is what I have been told for a young age I should identity with. I am envious of everyone who can trace their heritage back and proudly pronounce their ethnic group instead of using a generic term for their racial group. For example, my supervisor is Spanish and German but raised in France. The scenic designer is Portuguese and English. Lastly, an assistant stage manager is British but was raised in American.

I have been taken by rival a tribe from my homeland and since sold to outsider white men. I have done no wrongs in my lifetime. I have served an honest life doing my upmost to provide for my family and tribe. Now, I find myself restrained in this horrific place. I am laying in not only my own feces, but the feces of nearly 100 others. I am restrained to the floor of this boat with many others that look very similar to me, yet I cannot understand them. The man to my left will not stop sobbing and speaking in what sounds like gibberish to me. Every so often he gets so enthusiastic with his sorrows that one of the white men comes down and beats him within an inch of his life, he too yelling in a language I do not

First, I’d like to start off this question by saying when I attend Huntington University in the fall of 2016, I plan on starting and participating in a pep band for the home basketball games. As a Horizon Leader, I can offer a different perspective of any stereotypes anyone may have already made. Since I am biracial with White and African American, I am apart of extremely different cultures in my everyday life. As a Horizon Leader I can inform and influence current students on the cultures I am exposed to, that they may not be. As a minority, I feel like it is my job and responsibility to be the representation of the Black community. But not only the black community, but the multiracial community as well, because being multiracial is a culture

Is it worth being tracked by dogs to become a free person? I am a black woman I've

In school we look normal to all people like nothing was happening i was gland that my sister and I were in the same high school but different floors. My school was mixed, Hispanics from Honduras, Mexico, Puerto Ricans, but mostly Dominicans, African Americans, etc. My teachers were A few African Americans, one Spanish, and mostly White Caucasians. All my teachers were so lovely except for one, he was African American and he was a history teacher. It was my freshman year and I couldn’t express myself properly in English, he asks me to read a page of a book, and I didn’t have the abilities to pronounce properly most of the words. The teacher lost his patience and shouted me “what I was doing in a school where no one speak Spanish” I responded

Life for me hasn’t been the easiest. I am a black woman who has to support her kid. No one ever treats me fairly. My job can barely put food on the table for my handsome 4 year old son who’s name is Grayson. My house is torn up and beat down. My floor is bare with no carpet, my room plain with no bed. My son’s life is half broken by having a white father and a black mother. My deceased husband died trying to save me two months ago when two rich white men came to my house and tried to kill us. I can’t say his name anymore. Saying his name is a just a constant reminder that life for a colored woman is not as clear or perfect as a crystal staircase.

For many families, this time of the year is all about getting their children back into a school routine, making sure they have everything they need for their classroom, and buying new clothes, shoes, and backpacks. For others, it means buying 50 pounds of textbooks for college, stocking up on coffee, and bracing yourself for long nights and hours of reading. I'm talking about the adult college student, because that's what I'm about to be in a few short days when classes start.

When I walked in there was a freshness in the air, mixed with the overwhelming anxiety