Personal Narrative: My Life In Brazil

I have come to associate myself with the identity of an American Hispanic. When I was young, I never thought of my identity. I always thought everyone was equal and there were no distinct ways to stereotype a person. An event that helped me realize my identity was a trip to Venezuela where my family is from. Even though I was born in the United States, I met several different family members on this trip and saw so many different cultural views and sites that I had not seen in the US. In Venezuela, everyone speaks Spanish, and there were so many different types of foods like “Arepas,” which is a type of food made of ground maize dough, a staple where I’m from.

Music is a form of expression used in everyone's everyday life. It expresses and shows the type of person you are. Not only does music express emotion and ideas but it also expresses your culture and where you come from. Being Brazilian, there are many forms of music that we listen to that truly represent our culture in a unique way. Through the different examples of forro, samba, and dance, the representation of the Brazilian culture through music will be proven and analyzed.

Twightlight was falling as sneaked through the shabby building as narrow passage way, no one could see me , that was the way I like it no one could ever see. It was the one thing I had which I could control, constantly all day I was surrounded by “rifle” names drug talk. sometimes I longed for a safe cocoon somewhere where there was no worries. But here it was constant and I excepted that, since whenever I could remember I was on my own, in the dusty red, streets violence fighting violence and not just the outlaws the government too. Rubbish was piled high in some areas a dumping ground of the upper rich. However, this was no slum. The favelas, were small corrupt pockets built up in remote jungles, no one could get out.

Brazil can be compared to the United States in several aspects. Both countries have a lot of things in common; however, we can point some differences too.

Would you say that life has any sense? Or Is there an answer for everything in life? Three years ago I was completely messed up about this. Gustavo Adolfo Parra Chassaigne that’s how my parents called me and I was born in Maracay a little city next to Venezuela’s capital, Caracas. I used to be the first student of all my high school, also one of the first in tennis of my state and everybody said that my family was “perfect”. So, What did happen to me?

Much like the U.S., Brazilian culture is extremely diverse. Brazil’s current population of 190 million represents various nationalities from European to African (Country Facts). Brazil has an extremely diverse culture with some common pervasive threads that grouped together give Brazil a national identity.

Afro-Paradise: Blackness, Violence, and Performance in Brazil by Christen A. Smith juxtaposes the images of Brazil’s black populations shown in the media with the ugly reality that they actually face in their everyday lives. From an outside perspective Brazil, especially Rio de Janeiro, is known as this tropical paradise with their beautiful beaches, beautiful people, and of course Carnaval do Brasil. When you Google images of the Carnaval you will see images of colorful floats, and beautiful women with “perfect bodies” wearing outfits that look like solely mardi gras beads to cover their its and bits. “Brazil, a republic that once declared itself free of racism, is now faced with the reality that racism does exist” (5). Brazil is known as a country with such a diverse and rich culture that everyone from other races live together in harmony. The representation of black bodies within Brazil can be seen with by the performers dancing on floats and with bodies being shot on the cement. Afro-paradise is a paradox. The oppressive economy uses its identity as an exotic, black “jovial playland” for tourists to come and experience the black culture and black people. Glorifying the black culture of Bahia reinforces Brazil’s racially

Over the past several decades there has been an increase, in Brazil, of people whom self-identify as being black or Afro-Brazilian. What sparked the rise in these identities in Brazil? Was it possible material and intellectual gains or, sparked from activism, or from other possible factors. The black movement and affirmation of “black” identity came about much later in Brazil than in other countries such as the United States. In my opinion the most important factors for the rise in these identities are the material gains from the Quilombo Clause, the effects of affirmative action and quotas, as well as social activism.

In June of 2016, I got a summer job working for Jeffco Open Space.I wasn’t excited but I wanted to go on a trip to the Dominican Republic. I needed to save roughly $3,000. I was gonna be working on trails all day in the summer heat and I required to have at least one 32 ounce water bottle. I went online and purchased my first Nalgene bottle off of Amazon, I think it was around $15 with shipping and handling. It came in the mail and it was about three weeks before my job started and I loved it! It’s pink with a silver-grey lip. At first, I didn’t decorate it with stickers but in July I went to Pride Festival and got my first sticker. Its circle, it has this rainbow background, and in block print it says PRIDE. Then I eventually added my

We decided to pass the ball around to help kill time. I saw many familiar faces many of the girls I grew up playing with on rec leagues were going to tryout. At exactly 5:30 sharp the tryouts commenced. We started with a simple 3 lap jog or so it sounded. At the pace the older girls were taking those three laps they might as well have called it a three lap sprint. After the worst three laps of my life I was drenched in sweat and breathing as heavily as a dog after it chases a squirrel. After we got past the sprinting and stamina part I began to show what I could really do. I tried my hardest on every drill that they had us do so I could ensure myself a spot on the team. After that there was still one day of tryouts that would be the following day. The next day we did mostly the same stuff we had done the day before but you could feel that everyone was trying their best to impress the coaches that were judging us. As the tryouts came to a close I hoped that had done just enough to catch the eye of one of the judges. After the second day of tryouts the coordinators told us that know who did and didn't make the

The Word of God contains numerous scriptures pertaining to servitude. The last shall be first, well done my good and faithful servant, and even the purpose of the Lord’s Christ, to serve and give his life a ransom for many. At one point in time or another, we have all had the opportunity to minister to those weaker, less fortunate, confused, tired and heavy laden, or just people in our path. From the miniscule of helps to the grandeur of provisions, anything we have done to the least of these, we have done unto our Savior (Matthew 25:40). My pearls of serving others have carried me to the uttermost parts of the world in the form of mission trips with ample opportunity to share the gospel. Our marching orders known as the great commission is laid out in Acts, “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be my witnesses both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and even to the remotest part of the earth." God hollered and I answered, “Here am I, send me Lord.” It would seem my mantle is foreign

The moment that I realized what it meant to be Brazilian was rather insignificant, yet, looking back at it, it was a major realization for me. Being a third grader meant that I was just being introduced to standardized testing. All was going well until I got to the question that asked me for my race. Looking at the brief list, I had no idea what to put since “Brazilian” was absent. I asked my teacher what I should do since my race wasn’t listed and I followed her advice of “Choose what sounds closest to the truth”. When I went home later that day, my mother scolded me for choosing “White”. “We aren’t White,” my mother warned, “nor are we Hispanic, Black, or Latino.” “We are Brazilian,” her tone was stern and left no room for challenging. Her sudden passionate outburst left me endlessly confused, and it wasn’t until later that I truly understood what she meant.

20 minutes later we were in the jungle.Walking around looking for some new animals.A little later that afternoon we had heard some footsteps and a language we didn’t understand.But i knew what the language was it was some koreansomewhere else to hide.Hi my names Nathan Williams but my friends call me nate.I guess I can’t lie to you.I really don’t have that many friends.I only have two friends I guess moving from usa to brazil has affected me a lot.You may not know the reason we moved away but her it goes.Since our new President in 2032 decided to threaten north korea by nukeing them and theres been a war for at least 10 years.Because of that reason my dad had decided to move away and come and live in brazil.About my two friends we were heading

So I called my dad since that’s who I live with and he told me he was on his way to come pick me up at work and that we were going to the hospital because my grandma called him and said the ambulance came to the house and took my mom and rushed her to the hospital in the cities. My dad couldn’t tell me what was wrong all he said was “it wasn’t looking to good for your mother”. My dad came and got me from work and we drove to the cities. We go to the hospital and every one of my family members where there a greeted me with hugs. Everyone was crying which means that things are looking good for my mom. We probably stayed at the hospital for roughly 12 hours talking to family, doctors, and praying for my mom. A lot of family friends came to hospital and or texted me or my family. A lot of people posted on my mom’s or my Facebook wall praying for us that she would get better. After being up for 21 hours, the doctors said she was in good hands for the night. I didn’t want to leave her but I needed to sleep and maybe get ready for work tomorrow. So my dad and I agreed to go home and hopefully come back in the morning, so we said good bye to my family that’s staying there the

I have many different cultures al mixed up into one. One culture is expressed at home and another is shown when I’m outside doing an activity or at school. My culture at home is Peruvian. My Peruvian culture is shown through the music and activities my family does at home. For instance, at home sometimes my grandfather plays music in Quechua. Also, in holidays such as Christmas, we celebrate by eating a traditional bread with hot chocolate. The main part of my Peruvian culture is the food. Everyday my family eats Peruvian food. My mom cooks food such as lomo saltado, papa rellena, and cau cau.