Personal Narrative: Hatred In The United States Of America

Going up as a young African American girl in Philadelphia was not always easy, however having a strong family structure, old fashion southern culture, and beliefs has molded me into the strong women that I am today. Now that I am a mother, following my family’s culture and beliefs are not always the easiest thing to do, because time has changed and I feel like I am forced to conform to the everyday social norms of America. Yes, growing up was not easy, but my family and youth kept me in the dark when it came to how society treats individuals of darker complexion, what to expect once I left the confines of my family and neighborhood, and how to befriend or interact with individuals of other racial groups. All of the things that I listed were things that I had to learn throw trial and error, which makes life a little harder than it already is.

At first everyone and everything I encountered seemed strange and my parents embraced everything that this new cultural experience brought us as long as it lined up with their ideas of educational and financial achievement. The cultural experiences that pushed against their belief systems were taboo and the consequences of these evils were drilled into my head. So as I began to understand and consider and interpret these experiences I began develop-in my own sense of right and wrong, which forced me to leave my parents’ ideas of what defined a taboo experiences at the door of my blended cultural norms and realities. It made my parents, in some instances, seem judgemental and close minded to me. My gay friends, Muslim and Hindu classmates and the ones that did not adhere to a strict Catholic doctrine were not to be avoided, rather we became a community that educated each other about ourselves and learned about our differences. Unbeknownst to my parents I found my own cultural voice amounts a community of culture blenders that support each other financially and morally. Together we created a blended culture. What I admire most about this blended culture is our ability to talk to each other without saying a

Considering, my father is a veteran from Brooklyn, New York and my mother is an immigrant from El Salvador whom barely spoke English; I was certainly raised in a diverse environment. The disparity of their backgrounds is immeasurable, but their lives has impacted me greatly. Their relationship and love remains strong, even though they divorced when I was an early age. The dichotomy shaped my character, perspective, and my entire state of being. I was encouraged to play sports and excel in my academic pursuits. I am competitive in nature and I continually strive for success in all my endeavors. *somethings missing

Having a different background and parents that live by their generation’s rules is not easy

When I was born I came out white. And every one said I was one of the cutest babies they ever seen.by the age of five I was one of the smartest babies my mother ever had, and at this age I started to find a love for basketball. In elementary I had honor roll but I never got rewarded for nun for that, my parents would not say good job or gave me nothing. But I really didn’t think about that too much. But when all that was going on my father left the household when I was 7 years of age and I didn’t know what was happening at the time but later on in life I figured it out for myself. I grew up without a father but that did stop me from doing the things I like or getting the things I want. I never got in trouble or anything but I try to remain good and did the right thing.

Growing up my family wanted nothing but the best for us and that was given. The neighborhood we stayed in wasn't the best but it also wasn't the worst. My older cousins and I were their prize possessions, we were like their fine china, they wanted no harm or wrong doings done to us. Anything they could do to protect us from the bad world out there was done, even if that meant we couldn't (go outside). We were taught to have thick skin, not to let anyone take advantage of us, and to surround ourselves with people who were going

Haha, I understand that my disdain for Trump is subtle sometimes, but I’m glad that you picked up on it and know not to get me started. Additionally, I have a low tolerance level for Hillary bashing (just so you know), based on the fact that she’s worked hard all her life to improve the lives of others (in sharp contrast to the sociopath, who was born on 3rd and thinks he hit a triple).

It is very important for an individual to know their culture, and beliefs that they perceive. As an African American, it is important to know my own social identity, and know to be eager aware that racism still impacts negatively on the community. Raised in a black community was always explained the struggle and oppression that was faced before my time. Family members, teachers, and other people of color always informed me about my history. The people in my life always provided me with helpful tips of transitioning into adulthood. However, I took their advance and used it to help myself push forward my career goals. Continuing to gain a higher education was an important belief from family’s culture at this stage of development. The stage of development that I currently at is a big transition for myself as I am learning to do more independent tasks such as buying, food, clothes, and paying bills. As a result, I am continuing to grow as a person by learning from mistakes, and obstacles that I tend to face. Furthermore, my culture perception holds my standards to always strive to be the best I can be and make it sure that I remain humble on my journey to transitioning from each stage of

Hate is a simple four letters word with an extreme impact that could destroy the whole universe. It is the weapon that has been used since ages until this moment, and people still falling under his mercy. We were not born hating anything, but hate is a culture that we acquired because of many factors that shape our personalities such as community, friends and family. Do we learn how to hate?, is hate a personal freedom? and the most critical question is will it still be hate if we are living in the same world but with different names?, these are the question that I am going to answer on this paper.

I became more aware of how my elder neighbors interacted with my family. I noticed that they had very pretentious attitudes and they were always quick to point out our differences. Because of my new geographic location, my expectations about others changed. I went from believing that everyone treated each other equally to realizing that racism exist in this world. As a member of my community I did not focus on the negativity but instead on the positive aspects that make this town great, which is education. My normative expectations is that every student goes to college and creates a meaningful career for themselves. My perspective is not much different from my parent's’ perspective. The only differences is that they did not have the opportunities that I have. They grew up in Central America which shaped their expectations for their family. My father fought hard to achieve the “American Dream” and gave us a better life. My parents expect my brothers and I to have high academic standards and live a wholesome life. Their expectations help shape my normative perspectives. Which is why I had trouble understanding why some high school students do not attend college after

In Mark Mathabane’s “The Cycle of Revenge Can Be Broken” he thinks that hatred can be overcome by humanity. I agree to some extent because some hatred can not be overcome depending on the severity.

Her father takes out his keys and unlocks the door. “It’s so nice to finally be home” her father smiles. Happy to finally be home again, Kiwi runs inside and jumps onto the couch, darting around in a circle, and ultimately settling down and going to sleep.

I had to go to cram schools late in the afternoon, meet up with my tutor every week, got punished just because I received a score of eight out of ten on an assignment and put on a thick pair of glasses at the age of ten. These are the effects when ones walking in a way of life that they were expected to partake. I did not really want to become a doctor or an engineer to my parents’ wishes but I was stuck in a deadlock of my culture. Fortunately, I was able to escape it because both of my parents realized that there will be no future for me if my future was based on an entrance exam and social connections to get my life somewhere. My family moved to the United States when fifth grade ended to unite with my dad 's family and to give my little brother and I an opportunity to get a shot at life.

I grew up in a different environment than most people I talk to now. My parents do not speak any English, nor did they attend school in the United States or Mexico. They grew up extremely poor and when they got married and had my two older siblings and I, they took the risk and came to the United States from Mexico. They knew they could not raise their three young children in the same place they were raised. From the very beginning, they knew they wanted a brighter more stable future for their children. They wanted a better life than what they lived. I grew up differently than other children because most were able to get the help they needed at home, and I was not. Even though they would ask if my homework was completed, I would always say yes even if it weren’t. My parents would go to work for long hours during the day and come home

I was raised by a father who immigrated from Haiti and a mother who immigrated from France. Both were first generation Americans, who brought along a lot of their culture into the states. I was raised by a mix of both cultures and very little American culture. With hard work and determination, my parents were able to afford a very nice house in a very safe neighborhood. This city was predominantly Caucasian and we were not only one of the only African Americans but also, one of the only French or Haitian families in the city as well. Coming from such a diverse background the majority of my peers thought of me as weird. I was often asked why my skin was brown, why my hair was so “poofy” and why I acted so differently from everyone else. I spent several nights crying to my parents wishing they could give me white skin and straight hair so I would not have to be different from everyone else anymore. My confidence was so low to the point where I had no motivation to do anything. My parents were unable to help me and they began to fear that I would never overcome this.