Personal Narrative Essay : Growing Up In The Rio Grande Valley

As the first and only child in my family to attend college, I represent “Diversity”. My Hispanic heritage and culture has shaped my life by instilling the strong values and principles that Hispanic families and community’s share. Furthermore, my cultural roots have greatly influenced my current journey and have helped me learn and develop as a leader. The professional, academic, and career opportunities I am learning now is what sets me apart from everyone else, and I believe my strong leadership potential and commitment to my fellow peers are essential to becoming an innovative leader.

I was born in Modesto ,CA on August 17, 2003 in Modesto hospital . I lived in Atwater ,CA most of my life ,but then I moved to Merced this year. Places that I have visited that feel like home is Watsonville and Santa Cruz. I have been in the same school for 8 years . Also, I have had a separate year in preschool. When I was in preschool I went to a school near Winton ,CA. During my magical 8 years I stayed in Bellevue since kindergarden through 8th grade.

My first real memories are from La Monte, a rural town in central Missouri, walled in on all sides by cornfields with a bank, school, and city hall being the only buildings not beginning to cave in. An Army Reservist turned pastor, my dad brought my family here to take up a preaching position shortly after my birth. I was unaware at the time, because of my young age, the financial arrears my parents drowned in. With my father working two jobs in addition to his preaching career, a trip to the local waffle house was often the only outing my family could find the money for. Unable to afford a daily commute to the next district, I was sent to the hundred-person school up the road.

Before my big move to Houston about three years ago for college, it was my last summer back home in a little city called Amarillo, which is considered “West Texas,” although it’s actually located geographically north within the heart of the Texas Panhandle. I was enjoying every last bits of the time that I’ve had left with my friends and family. The last thing I could think of worrying about during that summer was a romantic relationship. My intentions were to make bittersweet memories and to have what they would call, fun. I went out almost every single weekend for the first month of my last summer and met tons of friends and I became closer to old casual friends. Within that first month of consistently going out and hanging out with all these friends that I became close to, I met a very sweet, charming, and interesting guy named Andy. Something about him caught my attention. He was silly and funny without even trying, so I took an interest in him. We started messaging each other on Facebook then texting and making polite conversations. Before I knew it, this was the starting point to a whole new friendship. When he first messaged me, as much as I hesitated to respond to him because I knew I was moving and I did not want to develop feelings just leave everything behind, I wanted to not just respond but to strike more conversations. I became curious about him and I wanted to find out more and more.

Living in Dallas Texas is not so bad. I lived in an apartment building that was not so big, but the worst part was that there were tons of roaches. So we decided to move to Frisco.Also my dad has a job there. As the last few days of school came we started packing. It was hard because my brother was giving a hard time to my Mom. On the last day of school we left to go home. We had a scheduled flight to Puerto Rico to visit some relatives. After we came back we went to Houston to visit my cousins. They stayed with us for a month in my house, then after days of packing they left and we started packing. We did a lot of shopping P.S I HATE SHOPPING oh and P.P.S. I only like shopping if it's for me. We had most of the stuff in backpacks & suitcases,

Regularly, we would go somewhere and do something new regardless of whether we were in the country or in the city. When we were in the country we would stay at my uncle’s grandparents’ house. They owned a cow and a calf, so while we were there my uncle’s grandma would milk the cow after dinner and give us fresh, warm milk to drink. They also had a big farm filled with rows of corn, which my siblings and I would run through. There was only one thing my siblings and I were not used to, and that was having to run outside to the outhouse when you needed to use the bathroom.

As a Hispanic American, I have been exposed to the beauty of my ancestors culture, while living in a country with one of its own. Being the first generation to be born in the United States of America, coming from a family whose roots deeply stem from the Dominican Republic, is an interesting dynamic. While my family is well adjusted to living in the States, they still celebrate as if they were back in their birthplace. They eat, drink, and dance as if they were back home. They speak Spanish to each other despite knowing perfect English. They remind us first generation kids, how privileged we are to be born in the States. As an American, my lifestyle and culture is evidently different than that of my family. I, among my Hispanic American millennial

I grew up in a city named Colorado City, TX – the city is located in Central West Texas. I had a really good friend, that I became best friends with, named Daniel. We went riding our bikes everywhere around this little town, scraping our knees on concrete and crashing our bikes on practically everything (since there was practically nothing to do in this town – this was before the 3M Palace Theatre was reopened).

My mind will often wander to all the places I've lived in and all those I would love to travel to, or visit again. I think of the streets of Santa Fe, how fresh it would be compared to the over 100 degree temperature of were I am now, the hot dry heat of El Paso, Texas, a place I often come back to, the soil were my roots are permanently ingrained. El Paso has grown significantly in the past 10 years alone and is now the sixth most populous city in Texas (World Population Reviw). It's far from it's days when it was widely known as “El Chuco,” or “ChucoTown,” nicknames whose origins and meaning have long been debated, but no matter how much of the new generation is unfamiliar with these terms the history lives on through the streets and current

I was born in El Paso, Texas to Mexican immigrant parents who did their best to raise me and my three siblings. Growing up in El Paso I never even saw myself applying to college, but then my dad made a bold choice to start a career in homeland security and that was when we moved to the DFW area. Ever since we moved to DFW every grade in junior high, i was talked to about college: how to get there, how to pay for it, and how to make it a reality. The thought of going to college never even crossed my mind before coming here. Now as a Senior in high school I'am doing everything in my abilities to make my dreams come true, to go to college and graduate to make my parents proud and prove to them that all their sacrifices haven't gone by without

I've been abandoned all alone in a trailer park in Gallup, New Mexico. I just received a phone saying i was dead and my mom was in the hospital.

Both my mom and dad were born and grew up in the little part of southern Colorado, commonly known as, the San Luis Valley. Which was the place that we were going. We packed our bags and headed, roughly, one thousand miles away from the place I

All i could hear was the crowd of people chanting ’’Fight’’at my high school,and my friends just standing there in the distance watching me get beat up.I came home ready to go back to school to talk about the bully situation showing them my cuts and bruises to the principal for proof.When we were arriving home me and my dad had a little talk about moving to texas mostly for work reasons but the only problem is that my dad will not be there when i come home from school.After the discussion I had with my dad we all started packing up and my mom comes in my room and says ‘’are u ready to leave and go to texas’’ I slowly nod my head because i will miss my friends but i will not miss those bullies.As soon as we arrived i glanced at the school i

In the story of Samson, his strength lies within his hair. That's sort of case for my story if you think pounding your fist on the floor in a fit of rage and spazzing your head to deal with pain “strength.” So my story begins in high school of junior year on Go Texan day of 2016. My school is a private school and it shouldn’t be shocking that my school has dress codes for uniforms and hair to keep the list short.

The four major units of study in this course this semester are, unit one: Writers of the Rio Grande Valley, unit two Approaches from the Education and Library Fields, unit three: Genre Innovations and the Hero’s Journey, and finally unit four: New Beginnings. The unit that I am most looking forward to is unit one: Writers of the Rio Grande Valley. I’m really looking forward to this unit because knowing stuff in general from the Rio Grande Valley really interests me and knowing that we will learn about writers of the Rio Grande valley gets my attention and interests me a bit more.