Personal Narrative: Ms. Ladonna's House

After studying women and gender history in early America for the past semester, my views about American history have changed tremendously. Having very little prior experience with history, I had many assumptions and preconceived notions from high school history classes. Women were never even mentioned in my previous learning about U.S. history, so I assumed they took on unimportant roles and had little, if any, impact on shaping our country’s history. However, after this semester of delving deeply into the women of early America, I could not have been more incorrect. Although they were not typically in the public realm, we cannot fully understand history without studying women. The following readings uncovered the roles of women in the private sphere and were crucial to my new understanding of the importance of women in American history by bringing women to the forefront.

I didn't always live in California. Before California I lived in Denver, Colorado. Before Denver I lived in Aurora, Colorado. When we moved to california we had a family of five. We moved to California, when I was six, Then we lived at my grandma’s house in Riverside for a year. We found a place on Ferree Street and that became our home.

The winter formal was approaching fast like dark clouds before the rain hits. Frustrated, I slammed the phone down on the phone receiver. Looks like my make-shift girlfriend couldn't go to the dance because her dad said I just wanted to score. To make sure we had no off-campus interactions, he was going to make her go to family night at Shakey's Pizza that day.

At younger ages, my niece Mckenzie and I used to go to my abuela’s house all the time. The old woman with the Panamanian accent loved spending time with her family, and it gave my parents and brother a break from watching over us. Mckenzie and I had many places where we would play, but none as often as the basement.

Sandra Cisneros wrote “A House of My Own: Stories of my life” as her form of an autobiography. "A House of My Own: Stories from My Life" is very much about borders and about houses, particularly "the house one calls the self." It is made up of nonfiction chapters, most of which have previously appeared as book introductions or articles in newspapers and magazines, or were presented in lectures. "My stray lambs". Throughout this passage Sandra Cisneros, shares personal stories about family and “home”. A theme throughout this passage is “home”. Home becomes less associated with her pass book, Mango Street, but more as a metaphor to other developments in her life.

But, for now, let’s get back to my mama. So, the way I figured it… My mama takes off because she just couldn’t deal with Grandma Lyanna’s weirdness, or her reputation, or all the dicks in her hometown talking shit about the two of them. (I can relate.) So, she leaves home at eighteen for the South and spends the next two and a half years partying in N’awlins. (That’s New Orleans for you Yankees who read this.) Until one day, she finds herself knocked-up with me, compliments of some dirt bag and a bottle of

In the Diane's house, I walked out of the garage house and I saw a wander puppy in a street next from me, and it came forward onto me. It looked a tiny gray on the black oil on the shine fur coat and a clearly white on the mask of placed over the snout. His golden almond shaped eyes around more shiny, like as god.

At one point in anybody’s life, they realize that it is better to buy for you friends and family, not yourself. As a matter of fact, you might find that buying for your family and friends has a better result than buying for yourself. Even though I had my own money, I decided that I should get something for my whole family, not myself.

Sunday night dinner at my Nonna Gerarda’s house consists of al dente pasta with a

Go! We tear through the red starting line into the light rain. Then around the corner back into the seventh and eighth grade wing of the building. First stop: Mrs. Kuehlke’s room. In her room we got partners and mouthed directions to each other. It wasn’t too difficult, but it was very eye-opening to how difficult it is to communicate while having a speaking disability. Afterwords we went to Mrs. Tyvoll’s room. In her room we had to dress and undress ourselves with only one hand. I wasn’t very quick but I was very successful. On too our third and final stop: Mrs. Flim’s room. This activity was easily the hardest. There were two messages on the board and we had to write them with our non-dominant hand and then our mouth. It was the hardest because

One morning i woke up out of nowhere. Was it something bothering me? I don't know. Well by the way my name is Lisney Morenara and this is my life. I am a teenager and am 14 years old. Im doing very good right now. I've lived in the same nice cozy home since I've been a little girl with my quiet Mom, funny Dad, and two brothers. One being older than me and the other younger, I am the middle child. My older brother and I don't really get along, but my mom say's he's all I have till my little brother gets old. So I mean, I guess I love him... Whatever. Back to my story. I go down stairs and my Mom is cooking breakfast, my Dad getting ready to go to work. My older brother is... where who knows where, and my little brother is watching

Four months passed by in no time and life was hectic. It seemed that I never had a moment alone. I couldn’t tell you the last time I’d been over to Latria’s house or the last time I had a drink of alcohol. I was still breastfeeding Brooklyn, and she stuck to me like glue. She actually preferred Tia or me over Trent. I guess that was because she was home with the both of us all day. Brooklyn was spoiled rotten, and she even slept with Trent and I every night. I was beyond exhausted and tried to sleep when she slept. Sometimes I let Tia watch Brooklyn while I took a quick shower. Tia treated her like one of her doll babies; she was really a big help, and I was happy to have her around.

Unfamiliar horses were tied to the Homestead's posts, making a slightly injured Wynonna reach for Peacemaker, again. Revenants might not be allowed in Earpland anymore, but Wynonna was beginning to suspect not everything that wanted to kill her would be so explicit in nature.

The time came to let our driver take Belladonna home. Jackson personally vollentered to acompany her home. As I waved goodbye Damon wrapped his arms around me. "Damon, have you ever tried to go out during the day?", I asked. I felt Damon tense up when I asked him that question. "No, I have never tried to go outside during the day. Why do ou ask?", He asked. I turned around in his arms and looked him in the eyes. "Then how do you know that for a fact that you can not enter into the sun as well?", I asked. With a sad look appon his face Damon said, "Because Rena told me that I couldn't." "And you believed her! What if she lied to you, just to keep you all to herself?", I said with a bit of anger.

Today, I moved into Laura’s house. Laura was my neighbor back when we both lived in England. She is now twenty-seven, and married to a wealthy man, thus raising the class title she inherited. Last time I saw her, we were just children and wore our bright dresses everywhere. Now, she wears fancy gold dresses, and beautiful lace clothing. She is even allowed to vote, unlike me! She lives in a typical farmhouse, with only one large family room. There she cooks, eats, and in that same room her entire family sleeps. There is a large bed, and six trundle beds to for everyone else. I sleep in the extra bed in the attic. Every night, I have to climb a ladder just to get up there. She still owns the same farm she lived on when she first moved, because