I find myself looking over my shoulder every time I step outside my front door. Violence has opened my eyes and destroyed my dreams of peace. When I first moved to Philadelphia from Puerto Rico, I moved into a neighborhood that was full of gangs and drugs. Philadelphia represented a new start, a chance for me to breathe again. I had experienced a tragic shooting right before my ten year old eyes in Puerto Rico; my mom’s best friend was killed, while the murderer calmly walked away. We escaped to Philadelphia, and I thought my days of witnessing horrific violence were over. However, my dreams were shattered like gunshots in the night. One day, while I was napping, I was awoken by a series of deafening pops. As soon as I heard them, I dropped
I needed an idea on how to approach a person in NY that I have never met or had contact with before. I thought an email might be helpful but the many times I started one, I just stared at a blank screen. I was really lost on how to begin my approach. I knew what I wanted to say, I was a little afraid of sounding like a stalker.
Before I moved to Canton, I lived in Wethersfield CT. One day during late summer when I was around 6 years old there was a bad thunderstorm. It ended up turning into a storm with tornadoes. My dad was in the middle of mowing the lawn and suddenly came inside, which is unusual because he likes to finish what he starts. When he came in he said that the sky didn't look right. My mom stood near the stove making chicken salad sandwiches with a worried look on her face.
It had finally arrived. Moving day. I was finally leaving my home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania after five short years and a sort of gloom lingered in the air. Although many teenagers would be excited to reunite with their family, friends, and childhood home, I, however, was frightened of the future. I woke up that morning and just laid there and listened to the sound of the rain pittering against the roof and windows, pattering against the surrounding forest in which I shared many memories. After what felt like centuries of just listening and reflecting, I got up and looked out the window. I looked at my neighbor's house across the field of grass which separated our houses and at the kids who had become like my siblings. I looked at the ice
I was 16 years old when i moved to Cleveland. I had moved from California, a place that everyone thinks of as a area of movie making, opportunities, rich people with fancy lamborghinis and ferraris, well it's nothing like that where i come from. Compton california, the place that you can see 14 year old gang members with guns, get shot just for wearing the wrong color, or just walking down the street like my mom. I never really meet my dad he got locked up when i was 3 on an assault charge so i had to move in with my grandparents in Cleveland.
4,097 people. That was the population of Centralia Missouri in 2011. Moving had never been an issue for me, when your dad is in the military you get used to it. This time it was different than any other time. My parents were divorcing and my mom was forcing me to move to a town with only 4,097 people opposed to my home in Virginia with 225,401 people.
Many people move around to different states throughout their life, and I have had the opportunity to live in what feels like two different worlds. I have spent most of my life in Bradenton, Florida, but at the age of ten I moved to the small town of Cleveland in the north east Georgia mountains. The two towns are completely different in my opinion and only someone who has lived there would completely understand what I mean when I say two different worlds. The weather, the people, and the different opportunities are just a few of the differences between the two towns.
I pray all is well with you and that you’re staying dry this weekend. I wanted to write to you just to be open about life for me right now. We had a conversation a few weeks back about me moving to Miami, FL and as time has passed I am more convinced that it is important that if possible, that I should make the move. As a disciple of Jesus Christ, my purpose in life is to seek and save those that are lost – to share my faith and help those who desire live for God to do so. I have been asked by my church (which has been my sole support since moving to Gainesville) to move to Miami on a supplemental mission team to help strengthen the church that was planted about one year ago now. I have prayed about this multiple times and each time I ask God
Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love as the people say, but is it full of love? That’s the question everyone thinks about nowadays. On the northside of Philadelphia, the cost of speaking out against violence might be risking your life. But keeping quiet has a steep price too, in this part of the city. Having to live in this neighborhood may seem like any other neighborhood, kids running around playing but, that's to say the least. Homicide is the topic that is mostly talked about in this community where gangs, drugs and gun control are talked about in the community as well as, their freedom of speech. A community where someone's death is talked about than what they are planning to do for summer break.
Being from a town where there are no skyscrapers and a growing community, I had never experienced the real feeling of being in an actual crowded city. This city is like none I’ve ever been in, I had been in Miami, Atlanta, and Charlotte but those cities were nothing like the city I was about to visit. In October of 2016 my older brother ran into a medical problem causing us to have to visit a doctor that was located hundreds of miles away. From then on we had to travel to Teaneck, NJ, but minutes away from that town was the largest city in the United States which was New York City. I had seen movies, television shows, and news about New York, but I really did not believe there could be a place so full of life, so I was finally getting the chance
It was June of 2013 and I was in my room cooling, watching “Good Luck Charlie”. My mom came into my room saying that she was ready to move out of New York. Obviously I did not want to move out of the city I was born in. My mom never liked living in New York, so she always thought about moving. So the plan was to move in August. Time went by and I was thinking about what North Carolina would be like. I really wasn’t thinking about the friends I was leaving in Brooklyn, that never crossed my mind.
I was nine years old when I moved to California from Japan, all the way across the world. Moving to California was quite possibly the weirdest experience that has happened to me as a child. Trying to move from a place that I pretty much spent my life in than literally going across the world without knowing anything about it was very foreign to me, however my parents used to live in california for about one or two decades.
hen I was 5 years old I moved from a small house in the West Side of Chicago and moved to a 19-storey building near the North Side of Chicago. When you look at most of the people living there, you don’t feel intimidated or uncomfortable because there are all kinds of people living there of many races and ages. There are good and bad times, but my personality has been affected by both.
When people ask me where I live, I simply reply, “Boston.” This is both somewhat true and misleading at the same time; the reality is that I do live in Boston, but not the prominent and well established part that many people are familiar with. I really live in Dorchester, part of the inner city of Boston; however, during the school year I spend the majority of my time in the dorms at my school in Belmont. Whenever I tell my friends from my neighborhood that I spent a year aboard in Spain, they look at me like I’m crazy and ask, “Isn’t that the type of stuff you do in college?” I mean, studying abroad is something many people pursue in college, but nowadays its possible to do it high school too, but they wouldn’t know that because it’s not something
If I could live anywhere in the world and money wasn’t an issue I imagine myself to move to New York City, nowhere specifically I just know that I would live in NYC in what seems the world’s smallest apartment with massive windows that let lots of sunlight through.
Four hundred dollars. Four hundred dollars, three hand-me-down suitcases, two crying babies, and one dream. That’s all Jose Nunez had to his name, as he walked out John F. Kennedy airport with his new wife Margarita, and his two baby children. As soon as those airport doors opened, it was like someone had turned the volume of the world all the way up. The sounds of city life boomed into existence as they stepped out into New York City for the first time. There had been many firsts that day for Jose and Margarita. Hours earlier, they had boarded their first plane. Days before, they had packed their first suitcases. They had spent a week saying their first goodbyes to a humble community in Santiago, Dominican Republic that was all they had previously