Personal Narrative: My Life In New England

Even though I’ve eaten lobster rolls, sported L.L. Bean jackets, and cruised lighthouse-studded coastlines, I am anything but a New-Englander. Though this has been by 4th year in Massachusetts, I still feel like I’m still the new kid on the block, the midwestern girl who’s naive to the traditions and expectations of New England. But, I am comfortable here, a result of many challenges I had to face over the time I spent in Massachusetts. These challenges did not arise when I first moved out—I was very unhappy the first and second year—it was during Sophomore year, when I started to adapt and be happy, did challenges from home spring forth on me. These challenges were from the people that I had left, family, friends, and others who felt that

Though I spent my entire life living in North Carolina I never thought of myself as a Southerner. My understanding of the Southern lifestyle was quite limited; there is an emphasis on family solidarity, and self-sufficiency with an agricultural backdrop that is part of their essence. The South is not simply a location, manners or customs it is a way of life. Hearing the childhood details of a favorite professor allowed me to envision a picture perfect life under the shade of a magnolia tree and little southern girl who grew up to be a Sandhills Community College professor, Mrs. Cole.

I first encountered the ocean in 1958; I was ten. Being a map enthusiast, I knew exactly where Florida was, and I was excited to swim in the salty Atlantic Ocean. Born and raised next to frigid Lake Michigan I understood a large body of water as well as a sandy beach, but no book or encyclopedia prepared me for understanding the flavor or immensity of an ocean and its adjoining shore. Arriving at the beach I raced across the hot pure white sand to keep my feet from burning, stopping in wonder when I saw ocean waves gently caressing a seashore that seemed to go on and on forever. I knew I was somewhere special.

Growing up in rural North Carolina was both a blessing and a curse. My hometown, Fallston, North Carolina, is a tiny town way off the beaten path. Most people speak with a southern accent, are devout christians, vote Republican, think camouflage is a normal fashion pattern, and adore country music. But while I was a child, none of these things were a problem. I never realized how close-minded everyone was or how there were no opportunities for success; I was too concerned with the three most important events of the year: the Fallston FunFest, the Belwood Tractor Pull, and the Cleveland County Fair. However, as I grew older, zeal wore off and reality set in. I started to realize how conservative and restrictive it was. What little Fallston offered,

The only state I have ever known as home is North Carolina. I was born and raised in Charlotte and the only time I have ever moved away was last year to start a new chapter of my life as a college student. Growing up in Charlotte has had such an impact on what I plan to do with my future. As a young child I always thought of Charlotte as the next best thing to New York City. I shortly realized after visiting that was not quite the case. New York City introduced me to a new world of opportunity.

The cultural events in a person's life shape them into the person they are today. Throughout a person's life they experience events that change them culturally. These events can be either positive or negative. I went through a cultural experience when I went from Maine to Maryland.

When I was one, I couldn't do half the amount of activities and operations I could do today. This is how I've grown to eleven and predictions on what it will be like in ten years.

This summer I went to Maryland for the first time and met my family that is over there.

I never thought a white woman from North Carolina could make a change. Back then, everywhere I went I can feel the town's eyes follow. You don't grow up thinking that your beliefs could/would change. Hell, you grow up thinking much of nothing down here. In North Carolina, the only thing you have time for is making money. So you can buy more time.

In 1752 at the age seventeen years, I was a destitute living in Scotland, Ireland. With no real skill-trade or education I had high ambitions to become a collective dependant, hoping to achieve a stable lively-hood in the New World. I lost most of my loved sickness. The only few relatives remaining were as impoverished as myself. Fearing there would be no prospect of a better life in Scotland I contracted myself as an indentured servant in exchange for passage to the New World. I and many others boarded a merchant ship that specialized in the trade of textiles and dress making. It was in the interest of the captain to keep us fed and in decent health to be sold for profit to proprietors in the colonies. Our voyage to New York would take 8-9

Living in Prince Edward Island, as a citizen, I have a lot of concerns for the future of my land. In the province of Canada, voices for confederation are coming out. This idea sounded exciting at first, after all who wouldn't want a strong country that unites all people, but for us things are different. Imagine if we handed our money and resources, or even right and prosperity to the government, how much would we get back. Our voice would still be unheard since we are of small population, very insignificant in the united government. We are already stable in development, with all these timber, farming, ship building business and more as we are developing a strong tie with Britain and United States. I’m worried that if we joined, our peaceful

Growing up, I did not realize that getting a job was going to be so difficult. It may be different in other towns. I grew up in California and was excited to be older and be productive. California gave you that worthwhile rush that encouraged you to get up and go on an adventure. Then my family and I moved to a college town in a different state, 7 years ago, where it’s less noisy. It was certainly a different environment and personally, I love it.

Born across the Atlantic in Ethiopia, I never imagined that I would have such a great opportunity in the United States. I thought that I lived a decent life in Ethiopia, and I generally did not have great ambitions to move to a different place. Because I was never exposed to possibilities elsewhere, I felt that my position was the norm, if not better. Granted, I attended a private school and was among the upper echelon of students there. Living in the capital city, I enjoyed the many activities I was able to participate outside of school. I actually remember playing golf in my backyard using equipment my father brought from the U.S. My father, also from Ethiopia, was in the United States for most of my childhood. I had lived in Ethiopia with

A subject that inspires me U.S History. I have always wanted to learn more about our country. I have never been the best at math or science, but whenever I go to my history class I was always eager to learn more. I would always show up early to class and read the chapter we were learning about and ask questions to the teacher.

Beeepppppppp Beeeeeeep Beeeeeeep Beeeppppp. The sound of the annoying alarm clock agitates me to wake up from my comfortable bed, soft pillows and a warm blanket wrapped around me. Like always, I reach towards the side of the nightstand where my alarm clock is and slam the snooze button. After 10 minutes of absolute silence and peace, the aggravating sound of the alarm clock turns on again. I read the bright red numbers on the alarm clock “its 8:00 AM. It’s way too early to be awake, especially for a Sunday morning.Yes, as you can tell I am not a morning type of person I prefer the night. Everything is just much more peaceful during the nighttime. However, today is the day, it’s moving day I honestly don’t even want to get out of bed right now; my head is hurting to death and feels like it 's as heavy as all the boxes in the house combined. Just by looking at all the appalling brown boxes surrounding my house. I was so annoyed and irritated just by the thoughts of moving that I couldn’t stand it anymore so I finally got out of bed despite being tired. As I stood up, I felt like I just got off one of those rides that leave you dizzy at amusement parks. I didn 't get why my parents wanted me to wake up so early when the moving truck came at around 1:00pm and mostly everything was packed the exhausting night before.