Personal Narrative: My First Recollection Of Race

Hi, Julie. I had never thought about the white culture. It took me awhile to look at everything as a whole and to point out what I believe is white culture. For example, July 4th, Thanksgiving, hamburgers, hot dogs, baseball, and football. Although I am half Hispanic, my father raised me in a white American culture. Granted part of my personal white culture included traditions from my Irish and English heritage. I began to celebrate my Hispanic heritage in my early 20's.

My first recollection of race and racism was when I was in either the 1st or second grade. I was in the local grocery store with my father who is of caucasian descent, and after a while I began to notice that people were glaring at us. It eventually dawned upon me that the

My first time I became aware of my race is the day I experienced racism. I must have been in the 1st or 2nd grade and I had two friends, Tiffany and Jaqueline. Tiffany was Aftrican American and Caucasion and Jaqueline was Asian American. One day Jaqueline asked me if I would come over to her house after school to play with her and I said I had to ask my mom. After convincing my mom, she drove me to Jquelines house and Jaquealine met us at her door. My mom was still skeptical because I had never been to her house and out parents had no actually met. So she asked Jaqueline to go get her mom and she did. I remember her mother 's face plain as day, she looked quite thrown off guard. But after a bit, my mother left and Jaqueline and I had a great time playing with her toys and her mother made us something to eat. After a few, my mom came to pick me up. The next day all three of us were playing and Jaqueline says to me "my mom said that you couldn 't come over anymore because you were black." I was thrown for a complete loop! I really could not understand what that meant. My parents never spoke to us about race up until that point. And I remember my exact words, "I 'm not black." Tiffany told me that I was and she said that she was half black. I mean, I was just completely unaware to the world of race. The really weird thing is, Jaqueline asked me another day to come over to her house and I said "I thought you said your mom

Truth to be told: I don’t particularly pay attention to national events or issues. My family is also incapable of comprehending national issues, especially my parents who do not have any level of proficiency in English. My family lives in a world where we go with the flow, but there are issues that I contemplate whether or not I should be involved in, particularly race inequality. Considering the amount of tension between policemen and African-American around the nation, the race to equal treatment is still ongoing.

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.

In life many times those who come from nothing and excel, neglect the past and forget where they have come from. Oftentimes this comes in the form of disregarding old friendships, shunning once close family members, or even publicly disowning their own culture on national news networks. When reflecting on Mr. Brown’s quote, I am reminded of my own maxim by Marcus Garvey, which states “A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots”. However, I say this not solely within the focus of my Black heritage, but within the context of my home town and school. As I claim the blessings that have been bestowed upon me, I make it my priority to encourage others to reach for the same, if not better. To do so, I have worked hand in hand with my principle to reform my school’s dismal college acceptance rate of 40%. However,

Race has shaped our world greatly, as we have slowly learned that just because someone’s skin is darker does not mean they are any less of a person. For example, Rosa Parks was one of the first black people to stand up for themselves. Black people were told to sit at the back of the bus but Rosa did not follow these rules. She was asked to move but she did not give up her seat, that was closer to the front. She taught us that just because she is black does not mean she deserves less respect. Another example is, Hate Crimes.in 1989 a law was passed that added the black community to hate crimes, which means that if someone hurt them because of the colour of their skin there will be severe consequences. This was passed to show that the government

My race is black. I feel like I always be constrained due to my race. I’m proud to be black and love that im black. Being blacks haves it benefits. Thought out history we is as being strong and can get thought a lot of things. A lot of people doubt us but us proving them wrong. Black people are making history in many different ways, ways that you never thought would happened. We our getting degrees. We our becoming presidents. Building and owning our own business. We doing thing that people thought we wouldn’t do. The only thing about my race is that a lot of us our getting killed by cops. They say it not a race thing but to me it is. Every day you see an example of this on the news. A white person kill cop or just people. They just get handcuff

I’d like to say I’m a very unique person. Not because of my hair, the way I dress, or how I look, but because of the unique things I bring with the person I am. All my life I’ve been the minority. From my preschool, to my church, my elementary and high school. Being black is something I embrace. I love my melanin skin tone, my nappy hair and I love teaching others about being a young black educated women. It hasn’t always been like that though. For majority of my life I use to try and fit in with the crowd. I use to always wear my hair straight so I could look like the girl standing next to me. My natural hair was beautiful too my mom and everyone else around me, but I felt like I had to step up and wear my hair straight everyday just to feel

During lunch at the campus cafeteria, Mildred noticed the dirty tables, the overworked cashiers and the exorbitant price for a watery soda.

Two years ago I joined a no-cut rowing club. At the time I was not what you would call athletic. I took up the sport because I thought it resembled rowing a whitewater river raft. I couldn't have been more wrong in my life.

I come from a middle class background. My mother is a criminal defense attorney and my father is a neurosurgeon. I was fortunate enough to have parents who always provided everything that my siblings and I ever wanted or needed. However, my parents definitely put limitations on what all they would buy my siblings and I. For example, when I turned 16 I wanted a new car that cost around 30k. But, my parent’s thought that the car was too nice and too expensive for a 16-year-old girl to have. As a result, my parent’s ended up buying me a much cheaper car that only cost around 20k. Although I was annoyed that I couldn’t get the car that I wanted, I realized that I was lucky to have a car at all. I also feel fortunate that with the help of scholarships and my parent’s I’m able to pay for my college education. So, although I don’t come from a rich background I’m fortunate and thankful to not come from a poor background either.

After a quick glance at the image, the most prominent feature on my slowly-paling face is the black glasses that protrude from my slim face. Next-most prominent is my rather large nose and flowing light-brown hair, that frames my face and hides my ears. Combined, I am the epitome of a suburban Caucasian teen, where my northern European heritage continues to shine through generations of mixed ancestry and Americanization. But, my racial background allows any viewer to develop a myriad of correctly, and sometimes incorrectly, drawn conclusions. The photo allows the viewer to define me by stereotypes ingratiated in society. Knowing no background on this photo, I am surmised by my mundane appearance, clothing, and racial identity as a normal white

All people recognize race due the distinctive differences of their skin colors. Africans, Europeans, and Asians can be distinguished at a glance since the races differ is obviously from each other. If a person stated they cannot recognize race, that would not be true. Personally, is how a person’s treat the race that matters. Anyhow, I was born in a war-torn country, thus, my family and I moved from one refugee camp to the next one in search for a safe and a better place to resettle. To make a long story short, I first recognized racial differences in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, Africa. I had rocks thrown at me and was called names such as coffee pot, monkey etc., due to the color of my skin. In addition, when my family arrived in the U.S in 1994,

As I walked up to the starting blocks I could feel my legs shaking and tears pooling in my goggles. My pre-race playlist was already blasting in my ears but I slipped my hand into the pocket of my parka and turned up the volume to distract myself. This just might be my last race ever. A sense of panic surged through my body as the heat before me stepped up to the blocks. “A vos marques!” a loud buzzer sounds and eight girls my age launch into the air. Only about two minutes remaining before the heat finishes. With my earbuds in and my tinted race goggles on I am in another world. I was so out of it I almost didn’t notice the girl standing beside me tapping my shoulder. Reluctantly I yanked out an earbud to see what she had to say.