Personal Narrative: Injustice

It's a Friday afternoon, I plan to go to Great Wolf Lodge in an hour with my church. I see one of my friends so he says to his mom “ Hey, that's my friend” I said “Crap” So I go inside to sign in to go and see my friends just sitting in a corner on a big sofa. We are listening to music and just talking then a green bus comes.

The other day, I tried to share an article, on a social justice issue, with my close friend [white, cisgendered female], but before I could start reading, she responded with “Ugh, don’t read that. I’m not in the mood for anything depressing,” all the while rolling her eyes.

Racial Inequality Situation : A black man in jail thinking about the unfair society I had a pencil the year I came to jail It wore out in a week from writing Penning down my thoughts for all I can Crying in the jail cell counting the bars I sat down on the cold floor with many scars I was all alone No family, no friends, separated from home

For a reason I don’t understand, teenagers will often call their peers “Social Justice Warriors” as an insult. As if being proactive about the world around us is a negative thing that should be squashed through insecurity. I am someone who has often been called a social justice warrior. But despite how those who say it would want me to feel, it actually makes me happy. It makes me happy because it means that even if they don’t want to hear or think about how the world treats people and things that don’t fit in with the norm, they know that that’s what I am fighting. To Lewis & Clark I would bring this peaceful fury. There have been times over the years when I have stopped myself from speaking up for things, but I got tired of that pretty quickly.

The once great America, an almost perfect civilization, trees and un-tampered wildlife, gleaming streams running pure water, glowing meadows filled with extravagant life. But now it’s all gone. The works of happy life kidnapped by the likes of “pure” conjecture in the way off destruction. Streams, rivers and lakes turned into cess-pools of radiation, and oil. Hangers full of cold metal machines, dripped in oil that scream freedom, yet mean something else. The American government once pride and true, and free, now corrupt and fascist.

Privilege breaks down into many subtitles, there is family privileges, social privileges, individual privilege etc. I considered myself being so privilege with my family, they had sacrificed so much for me to be where I am today. As the unique child of a single mom I can not regret anything about my childhood or my adolescence life inside my home. But there is a contrast there with the social privileges, as immigrant I can said that my social privileges in this country are not the same that I would have in my homeland. There I was judge by my work not by who I am. I considered not being myself not being privilege in this country. There is people who had been through worst experience than the ones that I had. But If I'm going to talk personally

Hello, Dr. Taft, I look forward to another exciting semester with you, and my cohorts exploring my inner and outer world. Let’s start with my family constellations it begins with my stepmother, and my father, my older brother Steven along with myself. At the time, I did not know that Ann was my stepmother, and I did not find out until I was older, and she had two sons who lived in Arizona. A few years later her eldest son Tommy would come to live with us, and the life that we were accustomed to would change the outcome of all our lives.

My initial goal was to serve my community as a lawyer. I wanted to closely study the law to defend marginalized people and help them find justice. While I worked as a paralegal, I discovered that justice was easily accessible for some, not all. I witnessed different clients of our law firm with the same criminal background and offense receive unequal sentences. My time in the courtroom and correctional facility provided me with vital leadership skills that taught me how to carefully observe, actively listen, and ask intentional questions. I observed countless jail sentences that gave some people hope and a second chance while giving others a lifetime label as a “criminal.” I listened to countless “criminals” share about what led them to jail.

A horrendous thing that happened to me was the time when I broke my foot. The positive side of that is that I learned my lesson. I was at my grandparents house about 3 years ago, and my little cousins and I were playing tag. I then leaped off 2 steps and landed on the rocks that were a few feet from the stairs. My foot started hurting horribly and my parents came to check on me. I limped all the way to the couch and had to put ice on it. We then left and I went straight home my parents did not think that it was broken or sprained. For the next 3 weeks I had went and was running and jumping on it my foot hurt continuously, especially when I had to run the 3 miles. So finally, my parents brought me to the hospital and the doctors gave me an

he first thing I did when I was first placed into my mom’s arm was wink. It was the most peculiar thing ever. She and my dad were both confused, thinking about what that wink would symbolize. Little did they know they had a daughter who would continue to stimulate their brains and logic. I was always an outgoing, awkward child. I was also very conscious of expensive things. I, as a “mature” 3 year old, once told my brother, “Anna (that’s Telugu for older brother), be careful! Is epensive( expensive on three year old speak)!” Every where I would go, I would say hello to every person that crossed my path; if a person didn't respond, I would pester them to the point that a response seemed like their only savior.

I held the phone to my ear as I waited for a reply. I watched Duke as he was being carried out the door, his body now motionless yet I could see a sliver of his deep brown eyes poking out from under his eyelids. It's better for him to not be hurting even if I can't see him. It's better for him to not be hurting even if I can't see him. It's better for him… I was caught off guard as laughter came rumbling through the phone.

I am disappointed in the number of convicted political leaders. Why? They abuse power. Most of the convictions listed in the Wall Street Journal article, such as extortion, conspiracy, money laundering are words you hear from an FBI investigation on mobsters, not a politician. Tax invasion? The ones whose to be model citizens, yet they are not performing a simple civic duty. But I am fooled because the convictions say it all. The politician use power to benefit their needs, rather than committing to the people of their constituency. These leaders and politician, elected because of some form of value, moral and good judgment, and for them to assume power and neglect the people and also their own morals is disappointing. My expectations of the

Three years ago I moved from Florida to Seagreen, California. My life felt as if it was just beginning and falling into place. However my life was about to change.

When this happened to me I was really upset and confused I wanted to buy chips and they thought I was stealing them. They handled it the wrong way accusing me of something I hadn't done. They should've instead done something else like make sure if I actually stole but no they jumped into conclusions all over something I didn't do well you can imagine how I felt.

It is a wintry fall, mid-October, 1868. I stood beside the tree where my parents decided to marry for the second time. My father is said to be a blinded scoundrel, he had been married once before. This tree means a lot to me too. It is where my friend, Roy, and I used to play. Roy was the closest with me since I never had brothers or sisters. Now, play is lost, it was at least two years ago. I am eighteen. Soon to be married and having to leave dear Ferndean behind me. The shutters, the ivy, and even my old brown cat, he certainly could not be fed by a minister’s wife. My mother is apprehensive and my father utterly distraught, however, I am at peace. Timothy Cromwell is a kind man. He knows only two emotions, thought and gentility. He finds tasks such as darning socks as pleasant as I find piano. Perhaps a third of my charm comes from the ability to play, although that and modesty are probably what primarily hold his interest. The organ will never need another once the marriage commences.