Personal Narrative Essay Morris College

On 08/04/16 at 8:42pm, I was dispatched to 2087 S. Hamilton Rd, on a injury dangerous or vicious dog/injured dog, serious injury, involving a Columbus Police Officer (CPD) being bit by a dog and shooting dog. I arrived at the location. I was advised my CPD personnel that the CPD Officer that was bite was transported to the hospital and that the dog was still breathing. I was escorted to the area where the dog was. The dog was on the ground, next to the dog was dog owner Jackie Fate. I was unable to see any visible injuries to the dog, the dog had shallow breathing. I asked Ms. Fate to wrap the leash around the dog’s mouth to prevent the dog from biting her or me while I placed the dog on the stretcher. Ms. Fate complied, I slowly guided the dog on the

A majority of my family’s extreme financial hardships ended before I entered middle school. I often thought that I’d matured and learned a lot since then, that I no longer had that chip on my shoulder. Before reading Laurel Johnson Black’s chapter, “Stupid Rich Bastards”, I figured I would remember slurs and taunts thrown at me as a child, or the glares of those who thought they were better than me. However, as I read her words, I found myself remembering more of what being poor meant to me, not to other people. Not only did I relate to her memories, but also her feelings toward college, and where she belonged.

As I grew older, it was impossible to notice that my world was imperfect. In elementary school, all my parent’s problems here hidden; I didn’t understand my family’s economic status. As I grew older and began to ask my parents question about our lifestyle and compared it to the other people around us. This conversation would always end in the same place; because we can't afford it. My high school is composed of economically unstable families, and economically stable families. Seeing that other families were better off than mine, I grew up with the idea that a comfortable life, is a luxurious life. I know that others around

My name is Anna Lawrence. I have lived in Boston, Massachusetts my entire life. I lived with my mother, father, and our house staff. Our family was quite rich, although Mother did not allow me to say rich, she would say that we were‘“well-off.” Because we were well-off, I had many nice things:. Pretty dresses, toys, and plenty of books. However, I could not seem to be bothered with these things very often, I had much rather listen to the topics of conversation between grownups.

When I first started thinking about college schools I never thought about going to MSU or Ole Miss. I wanted to go to the bigger universities, but I knew I wouldn’t do well if I went there my first year. My high school did not prepare me enough for University, and I hadn’t decided on a major either. I choose East Central Community College (ECCC) as the school I would go to for many reasons, and when I got here I knew I made the right choice.

Cameron Academy, the place where it all started for me. The first ever school that I had gone to. It was the place where I learned to fear anyone older and bigger than you because the teenagers there were not above fighting kindergarteners. Where I learned that the safest place to be after school was the office because the fights between the police and the students that took place outside on the front steps of the school were too brutal for me to witness; at least that's what my mom told me. That school was the place where I learned to be ashamed of any art that I may produce, to always keep it to myself, lest I be laughed at by the teachers. Cameron Academy is where I learned that “bad” kindergarteners who were in Ms. Valorie’s class got beat up.

People will not remember how many cars you owned or how big your house was, they will remember you by the person you were. Maybe the reason I oppose millionaires is because my family was never rich. I would sometimes wish that my parents could afford more things, but as long as I had a roof over my head and three meals on the table, I was grateful for their hard work. If tomorrow I suddenly became a millionaire, I would not know what to do with all of the money, since I’m used to limiting myself to the necessary items. The right people will be drawn to you no matter how rich or poor you are, because a person’s worth is much more than just their

Second, my economic status has affected how I see myself. As one of the many Americans in the lower middle class I’ve had to work for everything that I have. I grew up in a very wealthy and privileged town and while most of my friends lived in the lap of luxury, I started working when I was 13 so that I could help my mom support our family. In being from a less fortunate economic background, I’ve pushed myself through multiple adversities. For example, in applying to college I knew I would have to get a scholarship to in order to attend. The motivation I found to apply to and win a scholarship was developed by my economic background. Being lower middle class has shaped my work ethic and my levels of motivation to get things done. In Goleman’s article about what makes a leader in

My habitual origin was a low-income household. That type of environment instills the mentality that “you have to get it how you live.” At the time, the unsubstantial status of my mother’s financial stability caused certain difficulties to come to pass. One instance of an difficulty that came to pass due to the unsubstantial status of my mother's financial stability was that she could only buy one pair of uniform for every other school year. I was aware of how the other children were mocking me behind my back, although some even chose to do so in front of my face. At the time I did not understand how materialistic parents unintentionally raise their children to be because my parents raised me to just seek happiness in every dark situation. I began to resent my parents for the financial difficulties I inherited.

I simultaneously grew up poor and privileged. Although that sounds like a paradox, it was a reality given my family structure. Following a divorce when I was just a toddler, my parents became financially independent except for a small (and apparently, inconsistently available) child support payment. After spending five years as a housewife and out of the workforce, my mom struggled. She often lived paycheck to paycheck, while my dad’s job as a banker allowed him to live comfortably. The disparities caused me to grow up in two socioeconomic backgrounds: my dad’s was BMW’s and cruise ships while my mom’s was ramen noodles and frozen dinners five nights a week. As a result, I experienced multiple socioeconomic perspectives by age fourteen, and

I come from a middle class background. My mother is a criminal defense attorney and my father is a neurosurgeon. I was fortunate enough to have parents who always provided everything that my siblings and I ever wanted or needed. However, my parents definitely put limitations on what all they would buy my siblings and I. For example, when I turned 16 I wanted a new car that cost around 30k. But, my parent’s thought that the car was too nice and too expensive for a 16-year-old girl to have. As a result, my parent’s ended up buying me a much cheaper car that only cost around 20k. Although I was annoyed that I couldn’t get the car that I wanted, I realized that I was lucky to have a car at all. I also feel fortunate that with the help of scholarships and my parent’s I’m able to pay for my college education. So, although I don’t come from a rich background I’m fortunate and thankful to not come from a poor background either.

Coming from a low-income family my thoughts about becoming somebody in life were low. I was usually told I wouldn't make it because of my financial status. My dad Mario graduated from high school neither did he complete middle school. He dropped out in the third grade. He was brought from Mexico into the United States at the age of 13 and began working in the fields. My mother she graduated from high school and she did have a job at Washington Mutual Bank until she was fired. Every morning, my mom

Indeed, Jay was the ideal angelic guy anyone, including myself, would swoon over; and as he reached a solid age of seventeen, adoration grew exponentially. Jay Princeton, a towering figure presenting broad shoulders, flexed his back muscles that seemed to be carved to perfection. His fluttery yet thick eyelashes complimented his symmetrically sharp face and Jay’s flawlessly arched eyebrows framed his eyes. Those eyes. Those piercing sapphire eyes looked as if it they were melting into a shade of seafoam green and simultaneously melted my heart within. Jay’s skin was kissed by the sun and no blemish was in sight. I had urged to leap out of that car as his tousled auburn hair grooved with the wind. He had porcelain hands of mountains of veins and rosy fingernails loosely grasping the steering wheel. Jay Princeton glanced at me and beamed a devilish smile.

As a family of six I was raised on section 8, barely surviving on welfare. I shared beds and clothes with dreams of making it out of poverty, but with little guidance I was at risk of continuing this lifestyle for generations to come. My mother was always at work and my father was absent, which made me skip childhood and mature in order to become independent. I was never that child who had their mother sitting at the table telling them how to do their homework, but rather a child who stood on the table all day and night trying to teach myself. I knew from an early age that I wanted more in life than used clothes and a bike as transportation. I had the dream of attending college and becoming a doctor in philosophy.

Then the 134 arrived. I got on, showed my pass to the bus driver and