Personal Narrative: How Culture Changed My Life

As a kid I only got to see my dad on the weekends and those were the best days I had, I never understood why I couldn't live with my father full time because my mom never lived a stable life. My mother wasn’t as bad as it seems, she always made sure we had food and somewhere to stay even if it wasn't the greatest, even living with my mom my dad still paid for almost everything I had. When I was about 8 years old I lived in Mccomb and it was my dads weekend and I was so excited to get off of school and go see him, When I got home I was shocked to find everything packed up and my mom told me to get in the car, I was so upset to find out that me, my two brother, and her and her boyfriend were off to Florida. The whole trip to Florida I balled my eyes out and all I remember was that I kept saying that I wanted to live with my dad and that I hated my mom, I wondered how she could just up and leave without telling my

I always find myself questioning if a person’s actions are pure or deceitful. Since this incident, I have always questioned other people’s intentions, not necessarily on purpose, but self-consciously as a way to protect myself. Therefore, it’s difficult for me to get close to others. This is because I believe, if I couldn’t trust one of the closest people in my life, then how could I trust a complete stranger. In fact, I only have a couple of people in my life, other than my family, that I trust more than others. Provided that there are people I trust more than most, they still don’t have my complete

My bucket filled with images represents my surface and deep culture unique to me. I found out where I got my passions and which people influenced my culture, and what I need to do to continue to keep my culture and faith to be something I’m proud of.

Is usual to hear people associating common behaviors from a cultural background to how they expect an individual to act and react to certain situations. So I was really curious to see the results of the self-assessment comparing me to my cultural profile. I was born in Venezuela, and I lived there for most of my life, for that reason I wasn’t really surprised when my answers were almost the same to my cultural norm. The dimensions that I’m most similar to are in leading, trusting, disagreeing, evaluating, and persuading. In “leading”, the scale measures between egalitarian and hierarchical, and my cultural norm and individual answer is more hierarchical than egalitarian. Also, in “trusting” Venezuelans (including me) are definitely a relationship based society, where trust is built by affective connection, for example is very common that most of the business partnerships in Venezuela are made between friends and family rather than with individuals with

“Don’t let the Arab play dodgeball with us. He might try killing us.” As I looked around exasperatedly for the origin of this voice, I was greeted with a barrage of laughter. I did not have the cultural or linguistic qualifications to be deemed Arabic. Nor could my long, spindly arms cause harm. Yet, slowly, and in unison, each of my new sixth-grade classmates turned to stare at me. “Hey Arab, wipe that target off your forehead,” someone called out. I quickly realized my verbal assailant had mistakenly connected my tilak chandlo, a distinct Hindu forehead marking, with his own misinformed understanding of “Arab-ness.” My first lunch period ended with a bloody nose and a seat in the principal’s office. From that point forward, my future in middle school and high school appeared rather grim. The prospect of re-educating my peers seemed daunting and unmanageable.

In retrospect, my high school career could have been described as culturally enriching, and diverse. My four years of high school enabled me to develop a fair amount of close relationships with many students of diverse ethnicities, and backgrounds. My group of friends, many of whom were foreign exchange students at my school, were natives of Spain, Chile, Germany, China, Liberia, South Korea, Turkey, Switzerland, and France. Befriending people from other cultures was an engaging experience that subsequently alters one's outlook on life. In many instances, I was able to assist my new found friends in helping them adapt to life at a tiny American high school. Occasions would arise where many of them would be in need of a study partner or a translator and ultimately studying became more of a relational and cultural “question and answer” exchange among our group of friends.

Since I was born I lived with my grandparents, and for the first few years of my life my mom lived with us too. That was my normal. Mom, Appy, Ya, and me, living together as happily as we could. Then my whole world came crumbling down around me, and the floor was

My cultural identity and heritage is something I cherish and admire dearly. I find the history and traditions sacred and I work to the best of my ability to preserve it. Unfortunately though, the Chickasaw culture and tradition are slowly disintergrating. Along with many other who are desperately fighting to defend centuries of traditions, I pledged to learn how to fluently speak my Native Chickasaw language.

Cultural identity,is how you see and express yourself. I think people find it strange when faced with a culture different from their own.A person's culture can affect the way they view the world because it affects their behavior and beliefs.

Growing up I lived in a single parent household and I still do. It was kind of a struggle because all my friends had both their mom and dad and just had my mom. My mother makes everything happen, but not just for me my older brother Eric and my two older sisters Eriel and Erin. Sometimes I do wish my dad was in my life more for like daddy daughter dances but I only see him when he’s giving me money and that’s not how I want it to be all the time.

“It doesn’t matter where you’re from; it matters only where you want to go.” Life isn’t worth living if you are not willing to accept the challenges thrown your way. How I grew up wasn’t precisely easy, but instead rousing. From getting adopted out of China, learning a new culture, and facing some hindrance. Nevertheless I couldn’t have done this own my own, but with the help of God all things are possible.

Moving from place to place not much other than family remain constant and that too takes a different shape with time and makes me both accustomed to change and more importantly, prepared for it. Moving every few years is a gift and a curse, giving you a clean slate when you both need it and when you do not want it. It is always difficult to move away from good friends, teaching me to remember all those who left a mark on me .

I have been raised as an only child by my mom, with no father in the picture. I know nothing about my father except he moved on to bigger and better things when I was born. I do not care I have my own life. I know my mom did not want him to go, I think she still loves him too. I have always been really close to my mom. I was born sixteen years ago and we have moved eleven times, with seven different schools. This never bothers me, because I get to do it with my mom.

My parents were together for a little bit after I was born but since I was about 1 my parents have been separated. My dad has never been a big part of my life and at times it's like I'm non existent to him.I have always lived with my mom and as a single parent taking care of a baby at so young was a struggle. Still to this day it's a bit of a struggle because my mom can be hard on me at times and strict about the things I do and overprotective because of what happened to her at 15, but I understand it all. I honestly would not be where I'm at in life if it wasn't for my mom's parenting decisions. I look back at my life and everything that has happened, all the bad, all the good, all the pain, all the smiles and sometimes I can't even believe that I've

I never really knew my father when I was growing up. I was raised by my mother and my little brother's side of the family. My own family was across the ocean in California. By the time I was nine I