Personal Narrative: My Journey Back With The Highlight Of Native Americans

Tensions started setting in. That dreaded long walk from the parking lot to school felt different this time. From now on I would be leaving my hard hat and work boots at home, and walking past the construction site rather than to it. It was my first nerve-racking day as a student at the University of Regina.

What a beautiful dream, thank you so much for sharing it with me! I could feel your serenity and wonder while reading your dream. Perhaps, you were visiting a past life. My gut is saying that it is more of a present spiritual dream regarding where you are today and where you are headed. The Native American man and woman could also be your guides. Let’s begin with the interpretation.

While walking nearly to the edge of the village I noticed something extraordinary, there was an astonishing man. He turned to face me, and started walking towards me. The man had some dissimilar characteristics. I felt as if I was going to be in jeopardy, I could not

Studying in a foreign country is an interesting experience of an individual lifetime. One tends to learn a number of things relating to ways of life in a foreign land. Social, political and economic values and aspects are usually different from one region to another. Therefore, through studying abroad one is able to learn different issues about another society such as gender and sexuality issues, social class and race/ethnicity issues. Having come from a developing country studying in the U.S.A has been a great experience personally. This paper will attempt to provide a reflection of my personal experience on studying in the U.S by comparing the history of Angola and the U.S.

The artifact represents personal objects and meaningful moments, person influence on our own life. This is one of the assignment in our program to share our artifacts toward our colleagues and professors. This will take in more about different culture, uniqueness, identity and values of our schoolmates and how they reflected in their life.

Growing up in Ghana, I had heard a lot of things about the U.S. This was a country I had always wanted to visit; my prayer was answered when I got the opportunity to travel there. Arriving in a new environment came with many experiences. Adjusting with food, language and the weather was not easy. With the passage of time, however I have been able to0 adjust and fit it. This write-up therefore is to elaborate on my experiences since coming to U.S.

Nunna dual Isunyi, the “Trail Where We Cried,” is what the Cherokees call one of the darkest chapters of American history (Pritzker). Despite the Native Americans adopting a great deal of white American customs and European-style economic practices, yet they were removed from their homelands and relocated to state reserves due to the ideology of manifest destiny and the insatiable American greed. The main victims were the Five “Civilized” Tribes: Choctaw, Seminole, Creek, Chickasaw, and Cherokee.

My grandmother Lynne Murphy is who I chose to interview for my heritage project. This summer at a family birthday party I was speaking short phrases in Spanish while joking around with my dad. My grandmother, sitting beside us, joined in the conversation and starting speaking fluent Spanish. I had no idea she could speak Spanish, so I asked her, “How can you speak Spanish?” Before answering my question she laughed. She went on to tell me that she lived in South America for many years as a teenager. I didn’t have the chance to learn anymore about her childhood until this project was assigned. When I learned we were to focus on a family member’s experience growing up, I immediately thought about my grandmother and the interesting life she seemed

Surviving The Trail of Tears would be hard. I would need to consider the food deprivation, sleep and physical aspects, and the mental state I would go through. All of those things would support that I wouldn't survive on the Trail of Tears.

I am Waynoka, and I am from the Cheyenne Tribe. Waynoka in my language means sweet water. Just like the water that runs through the rivers that surround and cross through the Plains, my home. Cheyenne means the “relatives of the Cree” but we call ourselves the “Tsitsistas” which means the people. My tribe lives in the plains of Northern America, we lived in the states now known as Montana and Wyoming, but we just called it home. My family was like all the others in the Cheyenne tribe, me being one of two children, living in earthen lodges, the women farming, the men hunting. I was like all the other girls, idolising Roman Nose and his righteous victories against our enemies, learning my roles in our community that I will later have to fulfil,

My family’s Native American heritage has influenced me by encouraging me to assist the poverty-stricken Lumbee community that I grew up in, whether that be by volunteering my time, energy, or resources. Growing up as a member of the Lumbee community, I have witnessed firsthand the struggles that many Native American families face, including living paycheck to paycheck, being ridiculed for our heritage, and alcohol abuse in many households. My culture has instilled in me the desire to educate the youth to be proud of their heritage despite the derogatory stereotypes that people associate Native Americans with. Unlike many children I was raised with, I have the opportunity to go to college and become only the second person in my family to do

The way the story begins is probably the same as others. Obviously you are born and raised somewhere. Well my story began in Worcester Massachusetts. I was born on January 15th, 1995, to wonderful parents who people might think is not your usual mix. My mother is from the Dominican Republic and my father is from Ecuador. Yes, I know, the weirdest mix ever but it brought me into this world, so I'm proud.

“American Dream.” Those two words are what drove my parents to escape the challenges of living in poverty stricken Colombia. Being a first generation, young, female, Latina immigrant my upbringing has made me fortunate enough to embrace all of the opportunities available for me.

My “American Dream” wasn’t exactly my American Dream so I’m gonna make up some stuff. The way I will achieve my American Dream is to kinda try in school, just enough to pass it at least, and I will help out my community by doing things around in my area which is almost nothing because I live in the middle of nowhere. In school I will need to finish my English work and complete all of my aows. In Algebra I will have to try really hard because math is super important in life but math is extremely hard and and is dumb but you have to have it.

Jack’s mom rolled and twisted a paper only for the paper to disappear into the palms of her hands. She brought her cupped hands to her mouth and blew, and out came an origami tiger. But how!? By the magic of her town back in China. Jack adored the tiger and the origami but it later went away.