Personal Narrative: Living On The West Coast

Moving from the South to the Midwest was a huge change in my life. For my whole life I grew up to the southern hospitality and the tang of salt in the air since the beach was always less than 5 minutes away wherever I lived. Now I moved to a place where they flip you off to say hi, and the closest thing to an ocean is a sea of grass that seems to go on forever. Although I am now adapted to the change for the most part, it took me awhile to break in to the social norms of an average Midwest kids.

California has always held a special place in my heart for many different reasons. I was born and raised in this state and although there has been many drawbacks to being Californian, it has always been a place of comfort for me. California has played a huge role when it comes to the person I am today and why I have such an open mind, love for different cultures, and my willingness to work hard for the so called “California Dream.”

Growing up in Southern California, I was surrounded by coastal culture, which has influenced me in many ways. No matter whether I lived in San Diego or Ventura county, I was never more than ten minutes away from the beach. Every weekend, it seemed, my dad would take us to the beach as family so we could play in the water, build sandcastles, catch hermit crabs, see the tide pools, and most of all, spend time together. I was enchanted by all the beach had to offer. Every sandcastle built was a palace for a hermit crab and every tide pool a thriving community. Whenever I stepped into the water, my imagination would run wild. Despite how often we went, I always enjoyed our days at the beach.

It was April of 1999. My family was at home. Children were running outside. The asphalt was burning. Cars rolled up to the entrance of the apartments and BANG. I grew up in Stockton, California. Surprisingly, as a minority, I wasn’t really a minority. There were, in fact, a large and diverse population of Asian-Americans. But, Stockton is not the ideal place to live. It was hot and dry, almost to the point of a drought. Stockton was also ranked as the one of the top 5 most dangerous cities in California. So, having a nice and safe family is kind of difficult. Eventually, my family decided to move to Crescent City, California when my dad retired. It was a world of difference. There were trees, plentiful water, and a nice cool temperature. This

As my breath fills the open-air with a cool and foggy mist, I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't gone on this trip. As I look down all I see is clothes covered in dirt and I wonder when the last time That Susan had got a chance to wash This Set of clothes when I look around i see some familiar faces and some I can't make out. These mountains have taken us days to climb. Most say that we are almost to the top but I fear that we still have very far to go. A fresh layer of snow lays atop the wagons, Susan is laying down bundled in a thin blanket inside the wagon, Father is getting old, And i'm starting to think that he might not ever see california. If he doesn't make it it would be just me and Susan, I don't think that i'll have time

I don’t remember much, I just remember not wanting to leave. The place I would be spending the rest of my life I had only visited a few times. I, only being two at the time, was absolutely terrified of moving. Moving. It seemed like the worst possible thing that could’ve happened then. At first, when we left, it felt the same as the last time I had gone there. Then the realization that I would be gone forever kicked in, and the fact that this time, my dad wasn’t coming with us. Just my mom and I.

Having lived in the southern coastal region of Texas I have seen many of the beauties that nature offers, but many of these beauties also bring complicated needs to those they effect. I've discovered the power and magnitude of lightning storms I've been entranced by the soft crashing of the waves on the coast but the most beautiful and perhaps the most devastating phenomena I have ever viewed are hurricanes. Hurricanes have swept through my home front on many occasions, these powerful giants drift through towns decimating all in their paths breaking trees, ripping roofs off houses, and bringing with them a flood like no other. The high water and gale force winds that comprise these natural wrecking balls can cripple families and in my community

In 1978, when I was 14, my family moved from Phoenix, AZ to Cerritos, CA; a small city in the heart of the greater Los Angeles area. Phoenix was mainly White, Barry Goldwater conservatives trying their best to hold onto 1950’s Americana, but Los Angeles in the late 1970s was different; it was alive, vibrating to frequencies of the differing cultures that called the L.A. basin home. Looking back it still fills me with excitement, but truth be told I was scared to death. When I first arrived I had no friends, no experience to prepare me for the full on culture shock I found myself facing, nor any thought of how special that area would be to me. No other place than Southern California could have provided a better backdrop to develop the foundation

A white bunny bounced and pranced along the grass of the warm meadow the sky was a yellow orange color. I pressed my nose on the glass of the backseat in my dad’s truck.

James has decided that he is sick of not having enough farmland and that we will start moving our family west to Oregon. We have been farming so close to people, they have basically been on our property. He heard that when we go to Oregon we get 640 acres of land when we start our new life, as long as we have a house built and farming started after a year of being there. After one short year of Matthew getting to know his grandparents and Hope only for three, we are sorrowfully saying that we will never be able to live with them again. My in-laws, James’ parents, already traveled and have sent back letters saying that their wagon train had a mass of hardships along the way, but that Oregon is beautiful and it is really spacious for farming.

In 1752 at the age seventeen years, I was a destitute living in Scotland, Ireland. With no real skill-trade or education I had high ambitions to become a collective dependant, hoping to achieve a stable lively-hood in the New World. I lost most of my loved sickness. The only few relatives remaining were as impoverished as myself. Fearing there would be no prospect of a better life in Scotland I contracted myself as an indentured servant in exchange for passage to the New World. I and many others boarded a merchant ship that specialized in the trade of textiles and dress making. It was in the interest of the captain to keep us fed and in decent health to be sold for profit to proprietors in the colonies. Our voyage to New York would take 8-9

Imagine laying on a private beach right now in California. You’re sitting in a comfortable lawn chair with a front-row seat to the Pacific Ocean. You have waiters bringing you any kind of drink or food you want, and the sun is making you golden tan. Now, imagine the thrill you get while being on a roller coaster. The sun is beating down on you while you’re standing in line, but the wait for the exhilarating roller coaster is worth it. I got to experience all of this and more on my trip to Los Angeles, California. I went on this trip the week of my birthday, which is July 31, with my parents and my two sisters. My second trip to California was an unforgettable experience that was important due to all of the locations I got to visit, all of the knowledge I now have from this trip, and all of the memories I made with my family.

“Fred said to Bob how did you get in here” and Bob said that i got in some pretty big trouble in chicago. “Fred said what kind of trouble did you get in Bob” well fred this is what happened. One day 20 years ago i was at big joe brady’s restaurant. I got the bright idea to go out west. I told jimmy that i was going out west and that he should come to. He denied the fact that he should come to. I knew that from the start because jimmy thought that new york was the only place in the world. They decided to meet up again in 20 years from now. I went west to find a better job and started hopping around out west. I had a warrent for my arrest because i was robbing banks in chicago. I remembered

On day my grandma came and got me and my sister and took us to the airport in Indianapolis. We had talked about this for a very long. When we got to the airport we got our tickets and got on the first plane to Minnesota. That plane ride was an hour long. We we got to the airport in Minnesota we had a 4 hour layover, so we just ate while we were there. When we finally got onto the plane we flew to Las Vegas, and from there we drove to california.

I have been travelling with these two idiots. I am not sure what or where we are going, but they keep talking about going to different states and cities. What are they seeking? I am not even sure. Wait, what about myself? What do I want in my life and with who? Why am I travelling with this dumb, irresponsible, and uncaring man, Dean? And, with his hapless friend Sal, who is just fluttering through this road they travel on. What is my road? Who do I want to be? With? Should I still keep loving Dean? I have never really said much, but this road that I am currently traveling on helps me think about my life. Hopefully, I may find my answer to all these questions.