Personal Narrative : Freedom Day

“Do you like your job mom?” My son Matthew asks me casually looking up at me from his wooden desk chair. I’m working on cooking our family dinner and he’s currently working on a 10th grade essay, where he describes what he wants to become when he grows up. I always have thought that term “growing up” was funny, because through everything I certainly never have. I smiled down at him and answered “Yes, Matthew, I love it very much.” “Can I interview you about it please, it’s part of the assignment?” he replied. I nod and make my way over to the matching desk chair and sit down. “Just answer my questions about your job” He said. “Wait Matt, don’t you have to write this down?” “UGH mom this isn’t 2016, no one writes anymore. Gosh. My IPhone 17

Since moving to Orillia back last September, I have wanted to drive on my own to Barrie and just walk around the Georgian Mall just to prove my self that I can drive on the high way and I can go any where if I try. When this assignment came about I knew right away that I would choose the “Day of Nonconformity” because going to Barrie is something I want to do for myself and not for anyone else. I choose to go on a Friday because that was the best time for me to go because I have no classes that day and I also have school to be done so I though Friday would work for me. Also, one of my friends tagged along so that I was not alone on this trip. I got to walk all around and went into the stores I want to go into. I never actually ended up buying

Twenty-six years ago I a 17-year-old boy joined the United States Army. I served my country faithfully for 22 years, two months and four days; I served in the Transportation Corps. My time in the army was a special period in my life. I gain a lot of life experiences as well as professional ones; the military shaped and molded me into the husband, father son, and brother that I am today. During my service, I grew up and learned several life lessons that would serve me well in and out of the army. To get a real understand on how the military shaped me into the person, I am today; I must first give you some insight into the person I was before I left for basic training. I graduated high school in 1991 just four months’ shy of my 18th birthday;

I belivie that in the past and even today men are seen as the stronger sex. They are the ones who make the destions and control most things. This fact makes me want to work more harder and stronger to be able to take care of my self. I see my self as being able to be independent and deserve to be happy. And I want everyone to to feel and see themselves this way. I'm also fully aware that I'm not quite ready to be completely independent. My age has a lot to do with that. Most people wouldn't rent out an apartment at 17 years old. But as I continue to grow and change I will become more mature and capable of reaching that leaves of independence.

Im proud to have things that I have now,Without my generation there would be no freedom,without freedom our lives would be miserable and torn apart.Im glad our veterans fought for our country, they risked their lives for our country to stay in peace.If we didn't fight we would be controlled And be told what job to have ,how many kids we can have or they will tell us where we live.Veterans did anything they could to defeat our enemies,They never gave up ,they never stopped they kept on going until it was over.Im also glad that we have civil rights without civil rights people would still be held as slaves and they would still be getting beat by their owners.The biggest thing that i'm proud about is equal rights ,there should have never separated

Being that i am getting older in age my declaration to you is that i get more freedom and to liberate. I'm writing this because i find it unfair that my brother had more freedom than me at the age of 16. I believe that with the same amount of freedom gave in to my brother and sister i will be more social and a more pleasant person to have around. I will gain more of a personality.

My uncle, Gary Norder, is my American Hero because of his devotion toward me, and my family, The times he spends with me, and the effort he puts toward to support his family and mine amazes me. My uncle and his brothers started a company called Custom Caulking. The Norder brothers say it's been hard for them, but they still manage to sustain a wealthy business.

Confined between blank walls and chilling concrete floors, with nothing but Luke-warm, boxed mashed potatoes, and burly men to keep him company, Malcolm X created a neon image in the midst of darkness. Malcolm, lying on the gray and unsupportive cots of prison, began to understand the necessity of developing a literate persona. In doing so, he colored the walls with knowledge and a newly discovered vocabulary while continuing to be encompassed in the blankness of the walls engulfing his presence. After breaking down the barricades of illiteracy and captivity for himself, he raided the ignorance of those who were confining his African American brethren to their own state of ignorance and illiterate oblivion. Literacy

America’s gift to my generation is amazing because veterans have used all their potential for us. They fought for us to be alive right now. Their gift to us is much more than I expected. I am so thankful and I appreciate all they have done for us.

This will be my last post in not only All Sports but in any sports forum. I told Sohil Majdi a week ago that I am no longer going to comment regardless if the Patriots won or lost. The text is saved for anyone who needs to see it.

I’ll do it. I’ll do it for my family. I want to meet new people, see new things. I’m going to head out tonight after they give me my last round of bodies. I’m going to have to wait a bit so i’m not caught on the spot. This is for sure, going to be exciting. Since they picked me to do this job I have no time to really get to know people. I know one of my school friends may be around here somewhere, but I do I know he’s not already dead. You know sometimes these bodies have sat outside so long, or have simply changed or because what they eat I can hardly recognize anyone

You meander down passageways of peeling paint into a flame well. Up a crisis stair. Out a gouged trap entryway. A disheartening, solid scene welcomes you, pipes stunning the expansive display. You weave over the surface, going to the bond edge. A memory surges your cognizant. An official was lecturing the amassed masses, "the new recovery framework will enhance the lives of every single US resident, our fantasy of living always is currently a reality." You looked down at the young lady holding your hand. She thought back, her little face wrinkled in stress, "Would prefer individuals not to pass on when they get old?" You grinned at her, "No, nobody truly needs amazing." who can continue carrying on with this life any longer. A cycle of perpetual birth and resurrection. When you see everybody, it appears to be pointless to get up, go some place. Yet, that is the thing that they need us to accept. That it was purposeless to go and get things going. They sucked individuals enjoyed you into their psyche traps, but only a few got out. You have a meeting in the afternoon, located at a rusty tavern downtown. Scrounging up a few oxygen pills for barter, you head down the dilapidated streets, seeing, ever so

America’s greatest gifts to my generation in my thoughts, are freedom, internet access, and jobs.These are only some of the things that this generation are available to.We have been given the opportunities that people would have wished to have.Even so, some people take those chances, and abuse them.Here is why I chose these three opportunities.

It started in the fourth grade on MLK Day (which happened to be my mom’s birthday that year), I remember shoveling and pushing a wheelbarrow of mulch from one area of a big hilly park to another in torrential rain, getting totally soaked and muddy. Initially I thought, “Why is my family doing this today?” But after a seemingly quick four hours of mulching, weeding, and cleaning up the garden alongside its residents, I felt extremely satisfied that I had accomplished something to help beautify the Oakland neighborhood. I had seen then that there were many children, and even adults, who are not as fortunate as me, and since that time, I had continued to help with different park clean ups, thinking I was helping to clean up a place where they

All I want is to be free. Why can’t I? My owner, one Dr. Emerson, is now among the deceased, and I will go to his wife, Irene Emerson. My hopes of freedom are dashed.