Personal Narrative: My Outsider

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.

On November 19th, 2016, My family and I were going to Western Michigan University. We were heading off to watch the football and hockey game, my father told me it would take a few hours. Hours went flying by it felt like we were in a race car, we finally arrived hours later. We went straight to the dining area, it smelled like fresh made pasta and many more thrilling smells. As we made our way through the crowd, we found a table to sit at. Afterwards when we found a seat, we went darting off in many directions to look at all the food stations. Few minutes passed by when we all swarm like bees back to the table. We all seated and started eating, we talked about what we got for food.

It is true in life that everything happens for a reason. It is also true to say that sometimes it is all about being in the right place, at the right time. There was never a more prominent example of this than a traumatic summers evening, only a few years ago.

Put the gun down! Put the gun down! Pow Pow Pow. The gun shots cracked into the air as loud as thunder. One after another. We live day by day not knowing our end. In the blink of an eye our lives can be changed forever. Its life, yet even in knowing this we never expect tragedy to find us. We never expect it to affect our lives and the people we know and love. I’m going to share with you the day tragedy found my life.

Every paper, no matter how well written needs to be revised and edited as time goes on. In some ways, life is similar. We all go through changes that influence us and shape the direction we are headed. Some of these changes come from our own prerogative while others are inspired by friends and family members. I know that my worldview has gone through this revision process. Even looking back to freshman year I had many of the same ideals, same focuses on values and hard work, but over time they have come to manifest themselves in different ways. For instance, I am much more willing to share my beliefs and opinions on controversial issues. This developed as I came to realize my ideas are worth arguing for and I gained a knowledge of

I never thought I would be labeled an outsider, a misfit even. As I trudged my way through the halls of my small town high school, I would endure the gazing pairs of eyes, that belonged to my peers, followed by whispering and often times some laughter. I always used zone out during those repetitive speeches and commercials about the effects of gossiping and rumors; never did I imagine that one day I would be on the receiving end of of the everyday potshot. Growing up I was always the center of attention, the one everyone yearned to be friends with, never was I the antisocial child in the corner with nowhere to turn… not until high school. They say high school changes you. They say high school accounts for some of the greatest years of

I’ve always been an outsider, it’s been hard for me to build friendships and relationships. Not too long ago, there I sat in the corner of the room in the way back, trying to hide from the world, and be myself. I didn’t really want to get involved with anything or anyone. I was afraid to open up, talk to others, maybe because I was afraid to get rejected. Until, I met the best people I could ever meet, my best friends Marisa Mendoza, Jessica Contreras and Deseray Reyes, the ones who up to this day have sticked by my side, at my best, and worst moments. They have all been a big part of my life, I can enjoy every minute I spend with them. For me, they aren’t only my friends they are like my sisters.

In Oklahoma, where there are bloody rumbles and serious crimes made here in this big city, but there is a tiny sixteen year old boy living in the middle of it all, and that was me, Johnny. The Greaser was like a second home for each other. They were rough, old fashion, and have been In rumbles where breaking your arm wasn’t a serious injury, but they help another out. I, in the other hand, was not like them. They say that heroes need a dark past in order to be stronger in the comics I read, but that didn’t happen to me. I was abused by my own parents and I got jumped by those rich Socs. They left scars and pain for me, I felt like I’ve gotten weaker after this, not stronger.

Hi iam Edgardo Flores i was born in casa grande, az not that far away from our state capital,Phoenix, Az.theres nothing better to do in a hot summer than going out with the friends to a lake and have a blast riding jet skis boats and my favorite, swimming!My activites of the day are shooting,riding horses,and my favorite one is quad riding.Thats right! ive been doing these fun exciting hobbies since i was 9 years old.pretty young huh?

When it comes to what separates me from other teenagers, there would be quite a bit to tell. I would say a major difference which separates me from my peers is my love for barbershop harmony music. I do not have a quartet of my own; however, I love to sing barbershop tags with other friends at church. I set myself apart from the world because of my beliefs: as a New Testament christian, I believe the bible gives us all instruction concerning spiritual matters.

As an elementary school student, I did not have many friends. I had not been with my classmates since preschool, so I was an outsider from the start. Being so young and ignorant, I did not really see that I was bullied, disliked, and unwanted, however, as I became more mature I realized that these people I would spend 8 years of my life with looked for anything to nitpick, from my rupunzelesque hair to my love for drawing. Come middle school, I finally and completely understood the animosity, and still sat alone at lunch, worked alone in class, replied with silence to their words, and when I was even assaulted I did nothing more but shrug it off and try to ignore it. However, when I would come home in the evenings I would retreat to my bedroom where it would all hit me at once. The anguish led to rivers of tears, insomnia, low grades, a refusal to leave my home, and eventually even suicidal tendencies. My drawings became graphic, about suicide, loneliness, and the anger I felt. The school believed I had ADHD, my parents believed it was just a phase, but they were blinded by their own problems at the workplace.

An outsider is someone that doesn’t belong in a particular organization or group, the orphan boy and the elk dog is a story that talks about an outsider boy that’s rejected by everyone around him because of his disabilities and difference between him and everyone around him. My personal experience about being an outsider happened 4 years ago and it was a very tough experience that I hope I’d never go through again.

Walking away from everything you once knew and starting over is never a picnic. Leaving Iraq, and moving to America has impacted my life more than anything. I was only 4 years old at that time, and the only English I spoke was “excuse me, water please.” My family and I did not know it then, but our lives were going to change; we would become “Americanized”. Learning English was one of the massive changes that occurred, the way I dressed (culture), and even the way I had power to go to school and educate myself.

About two years ago, my husband, my two sons and I lived in a small village, where we had our own farm that we took care of. My husband was a farmer, and we provided food that was sold to gain money. Our farm was prospering, and it did not seem like anything bad would happen. We spoke too soon. It was a tragic day; our crops wilted and died due to the dry, hot climate. With the loss of our crops, we could not make profit, so we did not have enough money to pay for our farm. In the end we lost everything. Luckily, we had enough money to rent land. This certainly was not the life I wanted for my family.

I chose to break the norm of either smiling at strangers or giving them a neutral look when you make eye contact. I decided to give every stranger I passed a confused look like they had just spoken to me in another language. I must admit, this made me feel a bit goofy. I was on the fence as to whether or not to do this in the first place but I decided I just had to. The responses I received were quite comical. A few people asked if I was alright, and one person even asked if I had a problem with them.