Personal Narrative: My Journey To California

It was a nice summer morning we I was all of a suden shoke like turbulence on a plane to wake up. It turns out I slept threw my alarm to wake up for the day. It was about 11:00 am and today we were heading to Florida and our flight takes off at 1:00 pm. You may think that we had time to make the airport in Milwaukee but, we had to drive all the way to Chicago, Illinois because there was no flight for Florida in Milwaukee. Luckily I had packed the day before with the rest of my family so all we had to do was wait for our aunt Lisa to take us to the aiport in Chicago. She showed up five minutes later with a mini van and there was about seven of us jammed in there. It was alright for me because in our family if you called “shot-gun” or “I

Growing up in Southern California, I was surrounded by coastal culture, which has influenced me in many ways. No matter whether I lived in San Diego or Ventura county, I was never more than ten minutes away from the beach. Every weekend, it seemed, my dad would take us to the beach as family so we could play in the water, build sandcastles, catch hermit crabs, see the tide pools, and most of all, spend time together. I was enchanted by all the beach had to offer. Every sandcastle built was a palace for a hermit crab and every tide pool a thriving community. Whenever I stepped into the water, my imagination would run wild. Despite how often we went, I always enjoyed our days at the beach.

It was April of 1999. My family was at home. Children were running outside. The asphalt was burning. Cars rolled up to the entrance of the apartments and BANG. I grew up in Stockton, California. Surprisingly, as a minority, I wasn’t really a minority. There were, in fact, a large and diverse population of Asian-Americans. But, Stockton is not the ideal place to live. It was hot and dry, almost to the point of a drought. Stockton was also ranked as the one of the top 5 most dangerous cities in California. So, having a nice and safe family is kind of difficult. Eventually, my family decided to move to Crescent City, California when my dad retired. It was a world of difference. There were trees, plentiful water, and a nice cool temperature. This

I don’t remember much, I just remember not wanting to leave. The place I would be spending the rest of my life I had only visited a few times. I, only being two at the time, was absolutely terrified of moving. Moving. It seemed like the worst possible thing that could’ve happened then. At first, when we left, it felt the same as the last time I had gone there. Then the realization that I would be gone forever kicked in, and the fact that this time, my dad wasn’t coming with us. Just my mom and I.

Many people believe that Orange County, California is the best place to live for its great location, community and economic strong hold. But what those people forget to take into account is the people that make up this community. Living in Mission Viejo, an overwhelming amount of people think that this a place of Eden, that has the greatest neighborhoods to raise children. Well they are wrong. Our self-inflicting wounds are done by teenagers who choose to poison themselves. I was once one of them.

It was mid-winter of 1848, I was doing my daily chores when my neighbor brought news that two days earlier, on January 24, James W. Marshall made a discovery of gold on his piece of land in California. At first, I didn’t think that this would affect me in any way, but then I realized I could start a new life in California filled with gold and fortune, away from my small farm in Missouri. I decided to pack up my things and start on my long journey to California, I packed enough food, water, and supplies to last me a few months. The next morning I was surprised to see that not many others from my town were seeking gold, I knew it was unsafe for me to travel alone, but I was sure I’d meet others along the way.

Oakland, California, the city that people consider as one of the top five most dangerous cities in the United States. Growing up in the city next to it and having family there, I developed strong bonds to Oakland. I have always seen Oakland in the light for being outrageously diverse and being resilient. My first thoughts of Oakland never consisted of them of the city being dangerous or a bad place to live in. I knew that Oakland is dangerous but I have never experienced anything that made my outlook change. Despite a handful of my family living there and have experienced muggings, robbery and dealing of drugs, I still could not take in how unsafe Oakland is. However, just one incident changed my view of this city, 18 years of my life Oakland

I don't remember how I met you in 1st grade, but I do remember when you used to be taller than me and had braces. I remember asking you what a period (menstrual) was, and the days when we talked about relationships—I mean we still do, haha. I remember going to the Sacramento field trip with you in 4th grade, when we carpooled to the airport at five in the morning and how you were there when I experienced my first time on a plane. I remember seeing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows together and then getting In-N-Out afterwards. I remember when we both did Beginner and Advanced Strings in 5th grade. I remember having the same cabin as you at 6th grade camp. Going to the Big Bear trip with Ben, Bob and Josh last year and being there when I

What is California besides a state? California is different for everyone it depends on who you ask. I have lived my whole life in Coalinga. Coalinga is where my California story began. This is where I got my ideas of what California truly means. California isn’t always going be driving on a smooth road there are times where you have to drive on either a bumpy road or a cracked road. Coalinga has taught me that being different is a good thing, but there are struggles along the way. That’s how life is; it’s not always a walk in the park instead it’s a burning house. Coalinga was my environment and still has a huge part of my story. It was one of the factors that molded me to who I am. In retrospect, many decisions were made to get to where I am today.

Throughout my short life in Southern California, I have encountered a multitude of different natural disasters, strange weather patterns and a shift in climate. There have been three distinct phases of my life in which the occurrence of all of these can be found.

I was born in Havana, Cuba and lived there for ten years. If I am honest I cannot remember much about Cuba unlike my mother; however even though I cannot remember much I always used to think that Cuba was home regardless of how long we stayed in America. Similar to most children I took after the actions of my parents while growing up. If my mother and grandmother spoke about Cuba or any topic related to it I would listen to them and then I tried to have the same conversation with my uncle as if to let them know that I was thinking about Cuba as well. I used to believe that when we flew over to America we brought Cuba with us and that was a normal thing; however my thinking was changed over the course of only one year in America.

My father is currently a Lieutenant Colonel in the US Air Force. Because of this, he receives a variety of assignments, causing me and the rest of my family to have to move homes often. Most recently was the summer of 2015, when my family moved from Edwards Air Force Base, which is about an hour northeast of Los Angeles, to Rancho Bernardo, near San Diego. This was not the first time that my family has moved, so I was familiar with the typical challenges of moving, like finding new friends and getting involved in the new community. However, the transition to Rancho Bernardo was not as simple. Not only did I have to make new friend and insert myself into a new community, but I was also unprepared for the difference in academic rigor at Rancho

Traveling two thousand two hundred miles seemed like a stretch to many, but not to me. One brisk morning I jumped off the catamaran and ventured onto the most mesmerizing place I had ever encountered in my fifteen years of life. It was spring, two thousand and fourteen when I came to know Catalina Island, California. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion coming ashore. It isn’t enough for me to say I just saw Catalina Island, I felt everything that it had to offer. As I crossed over the pier I looked down and saw a school of fish fifteen feet below the crystal clear surface. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. They were rich in color and exuberant in their movement. I could imagine how unconsciously free

About a month ago I graduate at Jensen Gymnasium Västerås in Sweden. I had a thought of a road trip in the U.S, so I talked to my friend Elisabeth, who lives in Texas. I asked her if she wanted to go on a road trip with me and she said yes.

Milpitas, California, has been called the armpit of the Bay Area. I agree whole-heartedly, not because of the nearby landfill that establishes our scent, but in how a small city could ventilate ideas warmly.