Personal Narrative: Ink It Home

The artifact represents personal objects and meaningful moments, person influence on our own life. This is one of the assignment in our program to share our artifacts toward our colleagues and professors. This will take in more about different culture, uniqueness, identity and values of our schoolmates and how they reflected in their life.

This past year, I have been apart of Naperville Central’s brand new Special Spaces club. When my friend approached me and asked me to join, I agreed even though I had no clue what I was involving myself in. In retrospective, I can honestly say that becoming a part of Special Spaces has been one of the most meaningful, fun, and fulfilling experiences I have had in high school.

Many people have left legacies from when they were alive. Some are good, and some are bad. Those people may not agree with what they have left behind, and some may be perfectly okay with theirs. For me, I would like to leave behind a legacy that shows my family that I was a good person. I would want them to know that I had good intentions for my life and that I wanted to do good for myself and others. In this essay, I will explain what I would like my legacy to be like.

I believe that everyone should chase their dreams and never give up no matter how hard it gets. Two years ago during my sophomore year my friend, Janet, introduced me to a writing app called Wattpad. I fell in love with the app and my friend had written a story on their as well she encouraged me to publish a story I had been writing on Wattpad too. After some debate I decided take her advice and publish the story other people I knew ended up reading the book and told me to keep writing. So I continued to write throughout my sophomore year it was fun and easy at first until I ran into writers block and the story grinded to a halt.

If I were to be able to take, one book, one food item, and one famous person, dead or alive, with me on a deserted island; I would take Where The Sidewalk Ends, by Shel Silverstein, a GIANT bag of broccoli, and Ben Domian, an Air Force Reserve Survivalist. I would guess that this deserted Island would have trees with fruit in them or coconut trees. I would also assume that the person I had chosen to bring with me, they would have the same three options, except they would have to choose me to go with them since they were already chosen. That being said, they would be able to bring food as well to sustain themselves and a book for entertainment. If we were to combine our resources, we would be able to survive until help comes. Compiling our resources could also mean that when we finish our book we could switch and read each other's books.

“There is a house in New Orleans, they call the Rising Sun, it’s been the ruin of many poor boys, and God I know I’m one”

Ever since I was a child, I have always had the inclination to pick up a crayon rather than a pencil. From learning how to write my ABC’s to dreading over typing eight page papers, learning how to progressively read and write has manifested into a rollercoaster within my life, emotionally, that is. But don’t get me wrong, writing has slowly inched its way into my being and will continue to stay for my journey through academia. I honestly feel that there’s some sort of creature within my mind that prevents me from deriving happiness from english-related material. Though in the midst of all the chaos, I have developed an alternate outlet to express myself. An outlet where I wouldn’t have to think about forming sentences or using words that I don’t know but use anyway. An outlet in which I find solace and truly shows who I am as a person. The outlet of art.

difficulty choosing which art to pursue for the next four years. But when I was

I just woke up from a long nap on my bed, when my friend Quavo called me and asked

Out of the blue, towards the end of the call, Ron offered to place me on hold to ask a colleague for further assistance, inquiring whether he could add any further information. He came back and thanked me for holding, but he did not return to our previous conversation or attempt to answer any of my previous questions. Instead he asked me to pronounce my name "Dana" and took the time to mention how the program was national. Ironically he had been correctly using my name through the entire call already. Ron appeared to prioritize the collecting of my personal information and the scheduling of a follow-up call first, instead of addressing why I had been placed on hold to start with!

This picture means home to me because, not only is it one of the biggest attractions in New York City but I have a connection to it that represents home to me because. I am from Queens, NY, and it was pretty much quiet I moved to Harlem a few years ago and it was a different world that I had to get become adjusted to it. When I first moved here Times Square was a big part of my life, because I now lived less then 30mins away from it so I could visit it all of the time, and there is nothing like it in Queens. I would go there every weekend to shop, eat, go to the movies etc. I created many memories there and, I’ve become familiar with the streets so I can navigate times square and surrounding areas easily as I can do in my own neighborhood

It was about 6:30 pm on a weekday evening, and I had just finished eating dinner. My mom was slaving over the sink trying to clean up the mess we had made at dinner. When I approached her with that look on my face suggesting I wanted something. She knew it right away and asked what I wanted.

When I hear the phrase capturing life I automatically think all about people. Specifically the time spent with the people around you. I hold the belief that every day that is spent on this earth is another day to spend with your friends and loved ones. Furthermore; I also believe this photo I chose fully captures that my reason is that when I saw my best friend, and her sister on the couch I reminded of all the beautiful moments just like that I had with her and my own family. I probably captured moments everyday filled with these relationships however, I never thought anything of it until this Essay. Every time you take a photo of a person you’re preserving them in a certain moment of their life. So each photo, even if it’s insignificant,

Never really know what to say or explain after a drawing. I'll do my best to explain this one.

Coming home from a repetitive, colorless, and lifeless day at school, the one thing that would bring me expressive release was my little blue notebook. My exotic colored pens would hit the paper and I could have sat there filling those college-ruled lines for hours. I would write whatever came to mind: the monotonous routine at school, the girl who sprained her ankle at practice, or my dreams of becoming an Olympic-level figure skater. Images of my future-self as a skater twirled from my mind, around the room, and right onto the page. For my introverted young mind, the notebook was a place where I could vent, dream, and unveil secrets that I would have never been inclined to share. My twelve year old mind was not yet tired from the labors