Personal Narrative: Men Of Many Shades

To play a role given to us, isn’t fun once we learn of it, however, breaking away pushes us further into the journey. The Hero's Journey, a repetitive process that seems to be in the basic natural structure of every human, and despite any efforts are often replicating it ourselves. Following the journey is simple and sometimes unavoidable. The whole journey is mapped out by Christopher Vogler's The Writer's Journey. Then seen in Dracula, Bedazzled, and Noah. Also, in a easier way Howl's Moving Castle and The Game.

Joseph Campbell has a theory called The Hero’s Journey in where an individual is shown in a mundane world, called to an adventure, and goes on the adventure. In the adventure, the individual goes on the path of trials that consisting of making new friends, new mentors, new enemies, facing new challenges, gaining new skills, and new knowledge. When the individual comes back to their mundane world, they are the master of two worlds through their new experiences they've gained in the adventure. The Hero’s Journey has been repeated in literature and films through many years: two examples that have The Hero’s Journey are the films, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.

Change is inevitable. Whether it be positive or negative, change is constantly happening. More than often change can take you from the known world and spit you into the unknown, where you return a changed person. While embarking on the journeys provoked by change, you are on a hero’s journeys. The hero’s journey was popularized by Joseph Campbell. When describing what prompts hero’s journeys, Joseph Campbell said,

Too black for the White kids, yet somehow too white for the Black kids, oh the perils of a cappuccino mixed race kid. But it’s true. My life since I was young, at least younger than my eighteen year old self, has been about which group do I most fit in with. Between the four school changes over the course of twelve years, all in white suburban towns I’ve molded myself into an array of characters.

Machismo is a rather popular Spanish word meaning strong or aggressive masculine pride. I know this word so well that we could basically move in together because I have seen it take life before my own eyes for years now by my no one else but my father. This word has brought pain and suffering to my mother and by doing so has also inevitably harmed me. This word has shown me the ugly and the mean. But, this word has also shown me what I am and what I will not be and for that, I am grateful.

On a hot steamy day in New Orleans, in the batter's box sweating and anxiously waiting for the other team’s pitcher to throw me a fastball, there were two outs in the last inning and the bases were loaded. The score was thirteen to ten. All we needed was for me to hit the ball far enough to get a home run. I had two strikes and three balls but I needed to get this swing to win the game. I held my stance with confidence and tightened my grip around the bat. I felt my fingers tense

I was born and raised in the small but growing city of Perris, CA. This isn’t the best city out there but it tends to grow on you, and you begin to truly love it for what it is. The people, however, not so much. The community can vary from which part of the city you’re in. That’s because there’s diversity here in Perris. I’m a product of this diversity, being half Mexican and half African American. My parents fell in love after high school and later on began a family. I am the youngest of five. I have two older brothers, an older sister, and an older cousin who lives with us. The order is boy, girl, boy, boy, girl with my cousin being included in there too. We all live in the same house with my parents and are quite close with each other. They all seem to have raised me growing up due to the fact that my parents were busy trying to provide for us. This was a challenge by itself, resulting in lots of house moving and my father being unemployed for six years after losing his job. I never complained about moving because I knew that my parents were doing their absolute best and were working with all that they had and then some. This unquestionably made me adaptable to new environments and gave me a

Joseph Campbell is a leading mythology expert and philosopher who studied all myths from around the world and found the “Hero’s Journey,” a pattern or algorithm that appears in common in myth, religious ritual, and storytelling. The Hero’s Journey has three elements, separation, initiation and return. If I think about myself, coming to Hawaii by myself was a separation from my comfortable zone where I was surrounded by my supportive family. First time when I came here, I could not say anything and became quiet because I thought people would think I was a stupid and not understand me. I was afraid of how people think about my language skills. However, I tried to speak from myself, asked people to collect my mistakes, accepted what I cannot do

The worker contacted Misty Black who is a friend of Brittany Hardin. Mrs. Black stated “Brittany was in a situation where her ex (well she told me they were already broken up at the time) had assaulted her. Brittany had called me after Ronita Grady had hit her so I immediately called the police and made my way to Brittany. When I arrived the OCPD were already there speaking to Brittany. The officers also spoke to me and I told him I was the one who called them. After the police left Brittany and the boys stayed with me for a couple days because Brittany was still shaken up. The boys all seemed okay, I don’t think they really knew what had just happened. Brittany thanked me for helping her, because at the time we weren’t really speaking to

With my recent launch of the Black Men Lead Initiative, it may easy for some to postulate that I have it all together as a black man. It might be part of a natural and logical progression to establish the belief that I have excelled in the area of being a strong, engaged and infallible black man. However, your speculations and assumptions would be inaccurate. Although I consider myself to be the quintessential black man, I am far from perfect. I have failed on many occasions, by the world’s standard of failure.

I never thought I would be labeled an outsider, a misfit even. As I trudged my way through the halls of my small town high school, I would endure the gazing pairs of eyes, that belonged to my peers, followed by whispering and often times some laughter. I always used zone out during those repetitive speeches and commercials about the effects of gossiping and rumors; never did I imagine that one day I would be on the receiving end of of the everyday potshot. Growing up I was always the center of attention, the one everyone yearned to be friends with, never was I the antisocial child in the corner with nowhere to turn… not until high school. They say high school changes you. They say high school accounts for some of the greatest years of

-According to the recording this has been going on for some time now – Coulson tells Thor as soon as the recording has ended.

The last time I saw the sunrise was in Taney County, Missouri, 1950. I’ve been told stories from long ago. Stories before this land was consumed by hate, fear, and greed. The time was back before the white man came. A time when the red man was intertwined with his creator. The red man lived at one with his Mother, embracing her with careful hands. Never taking more from her than he required, or more than she could replace. Allowing the regeneration of her sacred grounds; she repaid him tenfold. He understood that the land can only replenish if he respected and nurtured her growth.

Graduation had ended, and the senior class had officially become high school graduates.  Time was given to take pictures afterwards, and then The Last Knight would begin. The place that everyone one would meet was the Knight Statue in front of the wellness building.  At the Knight Statue moms of some of the seniors handed out t-shirts dedicated to the night. The material of the t-shirt felt itchy against my skin, as it had not been washed. After the group photo with the statue; we went to Main Event on a party bus.  Their at Main Event we entertained ourselves with arcade games, bowling, laser tag, and a ropes course. At midnight Main Event closed and we went back to the bus were we traveled to Tyler Jackson’s house. At Tyler’s house

As a kid, it was not uncommon for the neighborhood children to migrate to my house during the summer. Activities constantly involved king or queen of the treehouse, go-kart rides, hide-and-go-seek in the woods, eight ball on the pool-table, horseback rides, clay fights in the fishpond, and drinking mother's one-of-a-kind sweet tea. My mother was constantly introduced to new kids each week. Therefore, I didn't understand my mother's reaction to my new friends as I was showing them the same hospitality I have shown all my friends. Her tone became stern as she glared at me and said, "I told you no visitors today. Your room is a mess and you are behind on your chores." Sifting through my memories for recollection and coming