Personal Narrative: Gastonia

Like the American population during Great Depression, the characters in the story faced many hardships they had to overcome, including but not limited to those mentioned previously. In brief, the Great Depression was a devastating event in the history of America’s economy and Capitalistic standpoint, that had the potential to abolish the United States’ world power status

mother’s death I can remember everyone who was in the stands that day...” This reference to the narrator’s vivid memory and the detailed depiction of the event shows the gravity of the situation and allows the reader to fully grasp the impact that the accident had on both the protagonist and the narrator. This act of bizarre violence is used masterfully in the author’s recount of his life. It shows how hard it is for a young boy to lose the only parent he ever knew and it also shows how hard it is for a child to be implicated in an event where someone close to the child has been unintentionally killed.

I felt my heartbeat rising every step I took as the blood rushed to the surface of my skin. My muscles tightened, beginning with my legs as if I could’ve ran fast enough to chase the truck. The image of the man and his words repeated many times in my mind, making me vulnerable to hatred. I thought I was doing something good and just. I was naïve. I thought everyone would gladly give us a helping hand. I looked at everyone around me, and I noticed it wasn’t just me that was burning with raged. I could see the anger in their eyes as they conversed with each other. It wasn’t until a loud voice snapped me out of it. “Do not show fear! Do not show anger! Our justice cannot break that easily!”

So it goes kinda like this: The day before I left for Pensacola, I was told "Have an open mind, you don't know who you are going to meet down there", so I went in like I would any other social situation, and just try to keep to myself until I have felt out and become comfortable with the situation. The original plan was to not get close to anyone, especially since it was gonna be a week long thing then we would be done, and we'd all go home and eventually forget about each other, but things went differently. They started off the way I planned, then I got to know you, and I made the mistake of getting attached because quite frankly, you had topped out everyone I'd previously met and I tried to hold out hope that maybe something could work in

When you envision a place called Twin City you may think about it being a big place, I

As I frantically got my lunch, books, and backpack together for school, I heard the news in the living room ringing in my ears. Another shooting down in American history, this one at Sandy Hook Elementary School. The news reporter began to talk about Adam Lanza, the shooter, who was deeply troubled in his teenage years. As the reporter elaborated, he revealed details that Lanza had access to guns. I felt my chest begin to tighten as I thought about dangerous people having the ability to purchase guns with no struggle. With each word spilling out of the reporter’s mouth I suddenly felt like oxygen was escaping my body and a sense of fear came over me. Out of nowhere, like a train hitting a car, I heard my mom yell, “It’s time to go, it’s 7:35.” I say, “Okay I’m coming!” even though

In Life in the Iron Mills, Rebecca Harding Davis presents a story that explores the grim world of the lower class in the United States of the mid nineteenth century. Its purpose is to bring the obscured struggles of the lower class to a greater audience, soliciting sympathy for their cause, and to insinuating that these workers had the potential to do better for themselves, with the narrator claiming, “These men, going by with drunken faces and brains full of unawakened power, do not ask it of Society or of God. Their lives ask it; their deaths ask it” (Harding Davis 14). To this end, the narrator describes the life of Hugh Wolfe, a worker whose story ends in his own tragic suicide, after having failed in a scheme to use money stolen by Deborah to advance his station in life. Essentially, this story is a cry for social and economic reform, in the hopes of improving the dark situation that the lower class was facing in this time period.

Before I moved to Canton, I lived in Wethersfield CT. One day during late summer when I was around 6 years old there was a bad thunderstorm. It ended up turning into a storm with tornadoes. My dad was in the middle of mowing the lawn and suddenly came inside, which is unusual because he likes to finish what he starts. When he came in he said that the sky didn't look right. My mom stood near the stove making chicken salad sandwiches with a worried look on her face.

The only state I have ever known as home is North Carolina. I was born and raised in Charlotte and the only time I have ever moved away was last year to start a new chapter of my life as a college student. Growing up in Charlotte has had such an impact on what I plan to do with my future. As a young child I always thought of Charlotte as the next best thing to New York City. I shortly realized after visiting that was not quite the case. New York City introduced me to a new world of opportunity.

Police brutality and gun violence that is associated with the police is continuing to be a topic that is constantly in the headlines. Gun violence is a huge problem in our society, but what is an even bigger problem is that most of the gun violence occurring these days is from our local police officers. George Wayne Smith wrote the article, “Blood Cries Out from the Ground: Reflections on Ferguson” with the hope of informing people of this type of violence. The article focuses on the wrongful death of Michael Brown, who was shot in Ferguson, Missouri on August 9, 2014. This article was a good way to reach people and tell them about the emotional effect that this shooting had on the country. He was able to use his first-hand experience, knowledge about Ferguson, and its history, to communicate with his audience about why we need to be aware of what is going on in the world. Smith used the rhetorical strategies; ethos, pathos, and logos to effectively showcase just what a big problem gun violence is becoming in the world, and informed us on how we can play a part in getting justice for all of its victims.

Most people stopped smiling. Screams were heard. Dancing stopped. Why were people screaming? All I heard was the beat of the music. People began running towards the front door, into the bathroom, behind the bar. Anywhere they could hide. I stood on my tiptoes to see the commotion, A guy was holding a gun, shooting us. Bodies dropped rapidly. My heart sunk. Where was Travis? Kendra? I couldn’t find my best friends. Still on my tiptoes, I looked around. I saw Kendra. Then a crowd of people engulfed her and I could no longer see her. I hoped that my friends would be okay before I rushed into the bathroom. A small pile of people cowered together upon hearing the bathroom door swing open. They thought I was him. Once seeing I held no weapon, they yanked my t-shirt sleeve and pulled me into the pile of crying, shaking, scared friends. I pulled out my phone, clicking it on then opening the thread of messages between my mom and I. Quickly, I typed a brief explanation of what was happening and where I was. I sent an ‘I love you both’ before shoving my phone back in my pocket. I gripped a stranger’s hand tightly, tears rushing down my face like a waterfall. A sob choked in my throat, causing my breath to hitch, letting out a hiccup. A stranger hugged me closer. The shouts wouldn’t leave my head. I heard them all over, I heard the shrieks, the calls for help. Why is this happening? was all I could think. I squeezed my eyes shut, throwing my hands over my ears,

In this story, some real American issues were depicted (economic inequality, drug addict, attempted suicide and doctrine that victory is everything). In this report, I take up two of them. The first one is the serious economic inequality. In this story, the Hoover family was not so rich. This is showing what real American society is like. Although America is one of the most industrially and economically advanced nations in the world, it is said to be the most unequal country in the developing world. There is a large gap between rich and poor. The people who can be said to be truly rich are a small minority, and most people are suffering poverty. According to the survey by AFL-CEO, in 1965, the ratio of the average worker’s income to CEO’s income

My heart drops. How could this be happening? Why here? Why here ever? I prayed Please God, make this go away. Restore my happiness. As I finish, I see a nurse having a panic attack. I start to panic myself. A few minutes went by. Boom Boom Boom . As everyone quiets down, all they could think about was the identity of this person. Who is he? Was he the shooter? “NYPD!” an officer yells out from behind the door. I can

Furthermore, standing in between the young screaming girl and the dying boy is another young boy watching his friend yanked to his demise. The boy’s eyes are widened and is shown to be screeching as he sees his friend being pulled down the slide against his will. This child’s reaction is pivotal because he represents not only fear and pain we all have to watch our own loved ones die without a choice, but the panic it also instills in oneself about their own death.

“Freeze! Put your hands in the air!” I yelled as a bullet whizzed past my ear and into my partner’s chest. “Niko! Are you ok?” I cried as I shot the shooter in the hand, making sure that he couldn't hurt me. As I call dispatch he tells me: “Ryan, tell the chief that I died bravely” “Ok.” I said with a tear falling from my eye. “You're under arrest! You have the right to remain silent, anything can and will be used against you in a court of law. If you can not afford a lawyer the city will provide one for you!” I said putting handcuffs on the man who shot my partner.