Personal Narrative: My Analysis

Culture shapes our identity and influences our behaviors. Living in California has been an open-minded journey for me because of diverse cultures, lifestyles, and people’s thought. Although, I learned to adopt the positive of a new culture and abandon the negative ones. It seemed like I could easily lose my cultural identity while I am accepting a new culture. However, After I took the class I even feel a greater appreciation on my own race, ethnicity and culture. I think my identity will never change. I will always consider myself as a Chinese because my own culture has shaped me into who I am no matter where I live and whom I married to.

In a restroom, in a church or anywhere else in the world you will judge a person by their appearance whether it be negative or positive, you cannot help it, it just happens whether you like it or not. For an example, when you are walking down the street and you see someone wearing ripped up clothes and bad hygiene then you automatically assume negative things such as beggar, homeless or even possibly a drug abuser. Being judged can go a different way also, you can think of someone as a rich, snobby individual because they are wearing very nice clothes and act a certain way but in all actuality, they could be a wonderful person. A more serious case of people judging other people that I have noticed is that most people

There are a lot of things that shape a person, A loss, A gain, or maybe a quest they undertook. Now I’m not talking about a quest to save the world like you might read in books, or watch in a movie. I’m talking about a goal you might strive to achieve or something you want to accomplish to learn more about not only yourself, but the people who surround you or the community you might live in. This is my quest, a quest that took me years to understand, but one that defines me as a person. A quest that showed me how to express my opinions, and to let others do the same.

My guilt was trapped behind my heart, knocking and pinching at the organ to open up and let it free. But I found a secret route. It could leave without anyone knowing it was even there.

Citizen. The word automatically arouses thoughts of nationality and quite frankly, politics. However, could the word not also be applied to the organizations, teams, and families that we pledge allegiance to as well as our country? I believe that the pledges, connections, and commitments that we make personally, the things we truly put most of our time and effort into, are where a deeper citizenship lies. Undoubtedly, most hold devotion to their country, but how much greater is one’s devotion to his partnerships. I consider myself a citizen to quite a few organizations that I am fully committed to, such as dance. I believe that in many aspects of people’s lives they are more than just a part of something; they are a citizen to it.

I first arrived at the Breakfast Club, and was a little taken aback by all the action that was going on in the room. In seemed like one large stew of energy that continuously fluctuated in different ways. As a camp counselor, I am very used to this type of environment, and it is just a byproduct of having more than 30 children in a confined space. After talking to Janelle, and hearing what happens at Breakfast Club the other volunteers and I got right into playing with the children. I started coloring and playing with whatever else while talking to several children. I remember introducing myself to several of them and them being cautious about telling me their names. Some of them even said things like “why do you need

Have you ever had something happen in your life that you didn't fully understand, or you didn't understand at all? I know I have. I've had many. I will be talking about a lot of things I didn't understand then, and I still don’t understand now. Maybe I will understand them as I go along. Some things I'll understand, and some I'll partially understand, and some things will still remain a mystery. There are lot of things that has happened to me that I don’t understand, and maybe I could figure it out throughout this essay. You'll get to know who done this to me, what happened, when it happened, where it happened, why it happened, and how it all went down. All of the things that happened effected me emotionally, financially, and socially.

“Help.” I’ll never forget how she said it. She was terrified because, for the first time in her life, she wasn’t in control of her body. She had already passed out before, so her voice was frail and weak. She needed help. She was pale in the face and her lips were a dark shade of blue. She was experiencing many life-threatening symptoms, and she needed to leave, fast. I looked around, but I was alone. And honestly, I was afraid. The burden of another human being’s life was now on my shoulders, and my decisions in the next couple of minutes would be the deciding factor between her life and death. Doing the only thing I could, I radioed in to get someone to our location, and I sat with her. For the longest 2 minutes of my life, I talked to this woman. I asked her about her day, her life, anything to get her mind off the fact that she might die. As soon as people arrived, I knew I had to do something. I immediately put her on emergency oxygen and we all helped her on to the nearest boat and drove her to the front, where an ambulance was waiting. She ended up being okay.

An individual’s life is a slot machine. Though life is not a game and cannot change with the pull of the lever, the three pictures on the screen dictate what our lives are like. For the longest time, I thought that my slot machine was broken because while everyone around me seemed to be hitting the jackpot, I kept having bad luck. To watch others in their happiness and prosperity was hard, yet growing up past my insecurities was even harder.

It is a wintry fall, mid-October, 1868. I stood beside the tree where my parents decided to marry for the second time. My father is said to be a blinded scoundrel, he had been married once before. This tree means a lot to me too. It is where my friend, Roy, and I used to play. Roy was the closest with me since I never had brothers or sisters. Now, play is lost, it was at least two years ago. I am eighteen. Soon to be married and having to leave dear Ferndean behind me. The shutters, the ivy, and even my old brown cat, he certainly could not be fed by a minister’s wife. My mother is apprehensive and my father utterly distraught, however, I am at peace. Timothy Cromwell is a kind man. He knows only two emotions, thought and gentility. He finds tasks such as darning socks as pleasant as I find piano. Perhaps a third of my charm comes from the ability to play, although that and modesty are probably what primarily hold his interest. The organ will never need another once the marriage commences.

On a drizzly Sunday evening my first summer in New York City, I was walking in Chelsea when a man rode up beside me on a bike. I really don’t want to bother you, he began, a baleful look in his brown eyes, but this ridiculous thing just happened to me. He explained that the costumes he had designed for a Broadway show had accidentally been locked in his apartment, and he had lost his keys. He just needed to borrow a little money so he could get in touch with his assistants and sort the whole thing out.

Some people like to take chances in order to learn something new. Other people like to stick with one specific activity they already exceed at doing. I agree with Emerson's statement that, "unless you try to do something beyond what you have already mastered, you will never grow." I agree with Emerson's statement because when faced with certain challenges, a person needs skills other than the ones he or she has already mastered and is comfortable with in order to overcome this challenge and grow as a person. I have had many experiences where I had to try something new if I wanted to grow. I was a competitive gymnast for almost ten years. In the U.S.A. Gymnastics system, a gymnast must obtain certain skills to move up to a higher level.

About two years ago my journey of life took a dramatic shift. I had lived in Austin, Texas for 11 years, so my roots were firmly dug. However, once my dad told my family the breathtaking news, I knew my life was about to change. I couldn’t believe my ears. He had gotten a job in Bentonville, Arkansas. Bentonville, Arkansas! A whole 9 hours away from my friends who felt like family! My mom and I laid in bed together and cried for days and days.

It all started on an unseasonably hot September day. However, extended Indian summers were completely normal for Vacaville. A new person was going to meet me, which caused my social anxiety to gradually escalate. Who was this dimwit to begin with? Mom made it clear that the person I was meeting wasn’t the school counselor, or anyone that was already employed at the school. In fact, Mom assured me, she was from the school district. A school district employee? Make sure to filter that you absolutely execrate her place of work, and how you have only recently developed the habit of giving the district building the middle finger every single instance that you have driven past. I was told her name was Carmen. Not the most common name, but I

On a cold, rainy day in Chapel Hill North Carolina I was coming back from a long day of classes and