Personal Narrative: My Non Dominant Hand

I have lost my grandpa and have not gotten over the idea of it. When I was in the sixth grade, my grandfather was very sick; he could barely walk. While my grandmother and some other family members went uptown for some household things, food, and medication, I was told to take care of him. Yet, I wanted to play with my friends outside. He told me to go ahead and play, but for some reason I just got mad and slammed the door and left. Around nighttime, I seen an ambulance pull up to my grandparents’ house.

Delano then pulled a gun from his ankle holster and places it on the table top. --

My first example of one of my peices of work is my Garage Sale flyer. I choes this as one of my examples because it demonstates my understandings of our unit all about creating flyers,business cards etc… The strongest aspects of this peice of work is the way I have all the information needed in an organized way. It does not look super cluttered. I think i could always work on something with any peice of work i do. With this peice i think i could work on my spelling and puncuation. Some of the skills i use to create this peice were; Change the backround, Bordes and accents, Text and

Bare with me for another blog post about volleyball. This weekend was the Badger Region Volleyball Tournament, which my team participated in. When I walked into the building, the memories flooded in with scenes from the elevator adventures, cheese fries, and design your own sweatshirts. The first day, my team didn't play up our full potential, with my team only winning one out of three matches; which meant that we didn't place in any of the brackets, meaning zero chance of receiving a medal. However, at the end of the second match, I got switched from being middle all-around to libero ( a position where you only play back row on offense and defense). I guess it's an honor, but it puts a lot of pressure on me by labeling me as the best passer

From my first engagement with John until now, I maintained the MI spirit by honoring and accepting his autonomy, providing support, evoking hope, and by recognizing my crucial role in supporting a client's journey of change. I also provided a supportive and welcoming environment, while maintaining a sense of neutrality and equipoise, and being cognizant of my role as a clinician (as opposed to a teacher, confronter, or mentor), and the effect it has on the establishment of our collaborative therapeutic relationship. Throughout most of my interactions with John, I used the cardinal OARS (Open-ended questions, Affirmations, Reflective listening, Summarizations) techniques commonly used in MI (Miller

The bliss of seeing my idea transfer to a canvas, the uneasiness of trying new paint, the panic of a missed brush stroke, the confidence in bold brush work, and the desire to better understand my environment and myself are the reasons I paint. With only a few brush strokes, I can create a concrete representation of an intangible idea. I can explore other worlds with no constraints and bring an idea to life. I focus on things I normally take for granted and look for beauty where I normally do not care to search. I may look at onion and see browns whites and yellows, but when I paint, I can see blues purples and pinks.

I come across a rear projection TV on the side of the road one day, load it up, and take it home. I eagerly spend a good four hours stripping it down and saving as much as I can. I end up with a 48” fresnel lens, two hefty speakers, a couple large capacitors, three glass lenses, and a glass mirror. Left over is a box of electronic waste and the particle board skeleton of a TV. I take the electronics to my local electronics recycling center, and set the wooden frame on the curb. I took 70 lbs. of trash and turned it into 10 lbs. of treasure ripe for projects, 30 lbs. of recyclables that would have gone to a landfill, and 30 lbs. of refuse that I had fun

Being able to keep an open mind even in the face of something that is completely new to you is a difficult feat to accomplish for some, including myself. I am a naturally curious person, but also come from a town where there is not much diversity so any sort of deviation from the “norm” has always piqued my interest. One of the most enlightening experiences I have had was as a student in high school when I joined the gay straight alliance club and one of the guests they brought in was transexual. This was the first time I had been exposed to someone who identified in that category and I was interested and unsure of how I would react to meeting this person.

In my many years in the workforce, I have misinterpreted nonverbal communication once or twice. That has led me to misinterpret the message that was submitted by the other person. I am about to refer to a scenario that happened to me at work, that I believe shows poor nonverbal communication. I worked in a nuclear pharmacy. One of my numerous duties in the lab was to package medicine in a lead shielded cases to prepare for shipment to area hospitals. Now to prepare the doses for shipment the pharmacists prepared the doses in a lead shielded containment area. When they were done with a dose they would wait till I gave them our signal, which was to wave at them, then they pushed the doses to me. They would push the doses to me by a conveyor belt.

Threads to Which I belong is a book that captivated my soul. As I read through the pages of history, I found myself traveling back in time. Invisible I stood in Mississippi watching a family’s history unfold. As I turned the pages, my emotions changed constantly. I experienced emotions of anger, disgust, sorrow, and happiness. The author has written an outstanding piece of work that forces you to consider researching your own family history.

I believe there is a value in being able to turn an everyday event into a spectacle that’s worth reading into. With that being said, Chills rattled through my bones as the automatic doors opened before me; I’m underdressed. Upon first glance I notice the glint of the interior lighting reflecting off the marble-white tiles. I take note of the scent; Freshness. I think of the convenience of having these natural grown resources surrounding me. Before now, I would never have the luxury of purchasing an out-of-season delicacy at a location so near my residence. Frozen, I was astonished by the sheer amount of ripe, mossy green avocados that sat in a pine wood container before me. I muster the courage the to extend my unworthy

What kind of life is one that is lived almost as if our contact has fallen out, and all you can see is a blurry picture? Our perspective is the blurry picture. We can see that we are blessed, but we do not see it clearly. Your memoir ,An Invisible Thread, opened my eyes to a perspective I had not ever seen before. The invisible thread that led you to Maurice inspired many, like myself, to introspect and realize just how privileged we truly are. We take what we have for granted and do not appreciate it. We live in a world where we can get anything with little work, but we forget how lucky we are to even have that. I know I do not appreciate the life I have half as much as I should.

When my mother asked me to read a book a few months ago, I was hesitant to agree. A stressful school year was approaching, and seeing my friends on a Saturday night seemed much more appealing. When I was younger, curling up with a good book was a typical pastime. Then came high school, and reading was replaced with countless hours of studying, cheer practice, and trying to figure out when I could catch up on some much needed rest.

I have a chronic illness and I think that it will effect my potential in this class. I have Mild Uncreativotious. I have had this painful ailment for as long as I can remember, the doctors told my mother that there was not a single creative bone in my poor, young body. Because of this disease, I am a logically centered person. My favorite subjects have always been math, science, and anything business related. Like every other person with Uncreativotious, I will be left brained forever without the relief of creativity because this disease is incurable and only treatable.

Drugs, alcohol, lying, stealing, murder, cheating, my family's track record isn’t the best. But, out of all of them I - the honor roll, Ap class student - shocked them all.