Personal Narrative: Cultural Diversity

Every paper, no matter how well written needs to be revised and edited as time goes on. In some ways, life is similar. We all go through changes that influence us and shape the direction we are headed. Some of these changes come from our own prerogative while others are inspired by friends and family members. I know that my worldview has gone through this revision process. Even looking back to freshman year I had many of the same ideals, same focuses on values and hard work, but over time they have come to manifest themselves in different ways. For instance, I am much more willing to share my beliefs and opinions on controversial issues. This developed as I came to realize my ideas are worth arguing for and I gained a knowledge of

My “outside” cultural influences I have: America is one of the most ethnically diverse countries in the world culturally. We have German-Americans speaking German, Filipino-Americans speaking Tagalog, Irish-Americans speaking Irish, Scandinavian-Americans speaking Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, etc., Welsh-Americans speaking Welsh, Japanese-Americans speaking Japanese, Iraqi-Americans speaking Arabian, Mexican-Americans speaking Spanish, and all Americans united in the common goal to create the best possible nation in accordance with our Constitution.

For my inter-ethnic encounter, I interviewed one of my best friends from high school Ashley Arias. Ashley is nineteen years old, so she is a year younger than me. She is currently pursuing a nursing degree at Notre Dame of Maryland University located in Baltimore, Maryland. She is originally from Virginia but now lives in Glen Burnie, Maryland. Her immediate family includes her parents and her younger brother. She also has a bulldog that she has had for three years. I have known Ashley for about seven years, but we have been really close for about five of those years starting during my junior year of high school.

What is culture? Culture is the idea of what is wrong or right, the concept of what is acceptable within our society. Culture serves us as a guide, taking us to the "right way" and helping us to make sense of things that surrounds us. There are many different cultures around the world. A lot of them are similar in specific ways and others are just completely different, this difference explains why we think that people from different backgrounds are "weird".

Throughout my life, I have struggled with accepting my cultural identity. My parents were born and raised in India, but I was born here, in the United States, and hence, born an American citizen.

They called me an apple. Since I was supposedly red on the outside, but white on the inside, I was automatically a walking bullseye. Being one of the many oppressed Aboriginals, I understand their need to hurt someone else in an effort to release some of their internal pain. I understand why so many give up or turn into raging alcoholics in an effort to numb their pain. Coming from a reservation, my greatest challenge was proving to everyone that all the stereotypes about my people were fallacious. However, the need for a government and an education system that won’t keep on failing us repeatedly is imperative. The only way that I can make my voice heard is to break these stereotypes and to reach a higher education; hence my application for

I was born and raised in the small but growing city of Perris, CA. This isn’t the best city out there but it tends to grow on you, and you begin to truly love it for what it is. The people, however, not so much. The community can vary from which part of the city you’re in. That’s because there’s diversity here in Perris. I’m a product of this diversity, being half Mexican and half African American. My parents fell in love after high school and later on began a family. I am the youngest of five. I have two older brothers, an older sister, and an older cousin who lives with us. The order is boy, girl, boy, boy, girl with my cousin being included in there too. We all live in the same house with my parents and are quite close with each other. They all seem to have raised me growing up due to the fact that my parents were busy trying to provide for us. This was a challenge by itself, resulting in lots of house moving and my father being unemployed for six years after losing his job. I never complained about moving because I knew that my parents were doing their absolute best and were working with all that they had and then some. This unquestionably made me adaptable to new environments and gave me a

During my last semester I took my first cultural diversity class. This class taught me a lot which is why I found the first couple of chapters very interesting. When I began reading “Gang Leader for a Day” by Sudhir Venkatesh I thought he was doing this for a good cause. In his first semester of graduate school, Venkatesh decided to study African-American poverty. He went into the Chicago projects and experienced the gang life. I felt he genuinely wanted to be diverse and see how other people, who were extremely different from him, lived. Being diverse is wanting to see a great deal of variety but what Venkatesh did was far from this in my opinion. While reading I began to feel as if he was doing this to prove that African-American’s lives’

Throughout my high school year, majority of my time was spent competing on the track team. I was immersed in diversity when I went to practices and meets. Just the sport itself is a metaphor of diversity. Ranging from the high jump, javelin, and one mile run, there is an event for everyone. I was able to distinguish myself in the sport, choosing my own events and becoming the best I can be.

I was thirteen when I moved to the United States. July 7, 2007 was the day my brothers and I packed up our belongings and left Haiti. It was a very exciting day because I got the chance to be on an extremely large white and blue airplane for the first time, and most importantly, reunite with my parents, whom I did not know because my father left Haiti when I was three years old, and my mother left a several years later. As a teenager, I had the mindset of living in a fairytale land. I did not think about the possible challenges I might encounter after leaving my homeland. The idea of adjusting to a new culture, learning a new language, and socializing with others that do not have the same tongue as me never ever crossed my mind. Little did

I was six, I knew that we couldn’t stay one place forever. That concept was foreign. Every few years my family and I were stationed to a new place, this time 45 minutes away. Of course, being the stubborn and impatient six year old I was, that seemed a light year away. I have never had friends that lasted over 3 years. Either they left, or I moved. This time, I left first. My friends were my world. I was happy. They were devastated to get the news of my departure. Tears were mixed with the “goodbyes”, and the occasional “I’ll never forget you”.

My definition of diversity is acceptances of people with different culture, ethnicity, gender, economic status and background. Diversity means that my ideas will be represented to achieve a common goal. At 9 years old, I left my malaria- infested country to come to the United States. My first day of school was overwhelming I have never seen so many different shades of skin color. All I have been accustomed to was shades of brown in my country. I was now the odd ball in a room of strangers. I immediately played the role of mute. There were other kids that had my skin color in the classroom, but I was the only African. My identity was obvious, tallest in my class with long skinny limbs and an unhealthy looking weight that led one to believe

I come from a small rural farm where I was born and raised all my life and where I grew up with two loving parents and one sister. Ever since I was a young girl, religion has always been a big part of my life because I was born and raised Catholic. My mothers’ side of the family is German Catholic decent and my fathers’ race is German and Cherokee Indian. Even though they are mainly German combined I have always found it interesting that I have Native American blood running through my veins. It is obvious that my parents are both Caucasian and were middle class individuals when I was growing up. I would now classify my parents to be in the higher class because they are worth more now then twenty-five years ago. Even though my parents have more money now than what they did when growing up on the farm, a strong work ethic was important to my parents. I am thankful they instilled this within me because I have always worked hard for everything in my life and I know that this will payoff for me one day. My parents also told me that education will get me further in life and it has. I am the first of my family to graduate from college let alone getting my masters as well. So when looking

I left everything behind and refused to go back. I left the one thing I wanted the most, but found the one thing I needed, freedom. My dark cloud of regret was behind me as I entered my salvation, Amsterdam. I entered the gates of Amsterdam and saw a multitude of smiling faces and entered the light. I had no recollection of how I got there, but I knew he wasn’t here I could feel it. I was finally free and I walked through the golden gates knowing I could start over.

I grew up in rural Indiana with three brothers. Our family was a little different than most because all of us children had been adopted. The oldest of us, Andy, was two years older and had cystic fibrosis which meant he probably wouldn’t live to be 30 or more. The remaining three of us were biologically brothers. Triplets in fact. Our parents adopted all three of us together for some brave reason. I used to joke that there was a buy one get two free sale at the adoption agency and that I was the only one they actually wanted. It was never hidden from us that we were adopted, but it always left me feeling that I didn’t quite belong in certain family functions. I wanted to feel like I belonged in my environment. The military