Personal Narrative: My Family Were All In Liberia

When my high school years rolled around, I made a few Liberian friends. By my sophomore year, I was not ashamed to be seen with them. Slowly, I started saying I’m Liberian when people asked me my ethnicity. No more of, “My dad is black, and my mom is Liberian.” I started telling people that my favorite food was rice with stew and pepper chicken. To a young mind, it was quite liberating, but it was not full-fledged by any means. I still hung on to my Black associations. I would still hang around my Black friends, most of the time. Even though I was making progress with accepting my heritage, I was still attached to the Black community. I mean, I grew up in North Minneapolis; the Black epicenter in Minnesota. Growing up in the rougher neighborhood

As I zipped up my last suitcase and dragged it towards the car, I reminisced about the wonderful experiences I had while in Ghana. After the last suitcases had been packed in the car, my sisters and I hugged our uncle and sniffling cousins, exclaiming “We’ll be back”. Before long, the house receded in the distance as the car set off towards Kotoka International Airport. Entering the airport, I was amazed by the sight of foreigners and fellow Ghanaians briskly walking towards their gates, their suitcases making a distinct wheeling sound as they crossed the marble floor. My heart welled up with elation, as I envisioned the impending reunion with my mother.

I’m from Ghana which is a West African country; I came to the U.S when I was 8 years old. I went to elementary and middle school. However during my freshmen year in high school, my parents were not getting along so well. Fights, yelling, electricity and water getting sadly became more frequent due to my dad. However my mom always told me how important school was and how I shouldn’t focus on what’s going on at home but instead focus on school. I was the child that would jump at the opportunity to get out the house. My mom and I moved away from my dad about a year now and I will never forget us two going to Giant and having the best time of our lives there weirdly enough. My mom doesn’t have a lot but makes the best she can for me. If I won this

He turned his head slowly and began to tear up, “When I was working on the farm, I was living a dream. Everyday I would wake up with a smile and feel proud of myself for doing something I loved. Now that I am here I realize that I’m not as successful as I had thought.”

My family and our ancestors are all originally from Liberia. Liberia is a country on the West African coast. English is the official language.There is over 20 indigenous languages that are spoken, all belonging to different tribes that cover 95% of the country.

Martin Luther King returned to the States armed with this new sense of kinship with, and increased concern for the liberation of, African peoples. His sermon the Sunday after his return highlighted this development. He expressed his hope that some Americans would immigrate to Ghana to assist its progress. “Right now,” King told his Dexter Baptist congregation, “is the time that American Negroes can lend their technical assistance to a growing new nation.” He likened colonialism in Africa to discrimination in America, and advocated a unity in the fight against them. “We got orders now,” King preached, “to break down the bondage and the walls of colonialism, exploitation, and imperialism.” His words that Sunday attested to the profound effect the Ghana visit had on him.

I’m a migrant born and raised in the heart of the civil war in Liberia that lasted for about 14 years. I grew up in a family of eight and living in an unstable country with the hardship wasn’t easy. We went about some days without food or surviving on a little of nothing. Our live was basically from bush to bush escaping form the rebels. As kids we were expose to malicious behavior on a daily basis but with all those predicaments our parents always stood with us. Both of my parents are high school graduates but with their little knowledge they inspired and encouraged me to be positive and have my thrust in the Lord. The war ended in 2003 and they got petit jobs but their salaries wasn’t enough to support the entire family. They couldn’t further

We all have a special place that comes to mind but I wonder if I am the only one that still finds it beautiful.This place is significant to me because it is where I was born and raised. This place is Monrovia, Liberia in West Africa, bordering Sierra Leone to its west, Guinea to its north and Ivory coast to its east, also near the Atlantic coast. Most people do not have knowledge of Liberia but do not get it misguided for a small country, approximately 4.614 million people are living there as of 2016.

I’m coffee bean skin, I’m brown sugar bones, I’m lion made hair. I’m African. I’m Ethiopian. But I’m not Drakes “East African girl,” or Trey Songz’s “Ethiopian Eritrean chicken,”

After even 100 years, as he had declared, when African American’s were free from slavery, they were still on a “lonely island of poverty.” He had such determination and boldness when performing his speech. Starting off with a light greeting, ending with high demands for freedom riches and security of justice in all the variety of God’s people. Mentioning what was then an opinion, “ ..in what WILL go down in history as the GREATEST demonstration for

As far as I can recount during my millennial but golden years but rather imprisoned at the same

I was standing on a hill looking at the horrible town of West Point in Liberia, and I was starting to rethink my career as a journalist. . “This is the worst place I’ve ever seen,” I said.

In South Africa in the early 1990s, Nidiche Nyong’o was able to escape her white owners towards the end of a long-lived apartheid. Like many immigrants, she was able to come to the United States to start a new life for herself. But, her upbringing forged a different outlook on life. Upon coming to America, what she saw was this: individuals who had their freedom. Comparably, she saw those who had luxury. They had opportunity and diversity. They had a free market with a fair and just system of government. More importantly, they had comfortable homes, food to eat, a warm place to sleep, and even more comforting was the presence of a family. They had their loved ones—they weren’t ripped away from their parents, their siblings, or forced to live with complete strangers. They had everything. And yet, so many were… sad? “How could this be possible?” she thought. Thus commenced the beginning of a very lengthy

Growing up in my hometown of Charleston, Arkansas was quite the experience. I can remember many fond memories of my growing up here. For instance, the many summers where my Grandpa took me and my sister fishing at our pit. Or the many camping trips I've been on with my family. I can even recall being a little girl and helping feed calves on my Grandpa's Dairy Farm, McCartney

Before I entered high school, my mother decided it was time for the family to enjoy a vacation for once. Usually we wouldn't do anything in the summer because of my mother's workaholic tendency. This made me excited but at the same time worried. My family comes from an African culture where they believe that it is essential for all Africans to be brought up into the African culture. Necessities such as cooking, speaking and acting in the African image is highly recommended. For me I was brought up knowing a little of the language but it was never my first language that I was fluent in. Luckily, that was never an issue as I visited. My family and relatives welcomed me with open arms and encouraged me to explore the different aspects of Ghana. I enjoyed Ghana so much to