Personal Narrative: Orange County, California

Hello, reading over your discussion about growing up in Inglewood California brings to mind my African American co-worker who talks about living in Compton. She tells us often how growing up in that area you had to carry either a gun or a knife and be on guard whenever you go anywhere. She is a very dear friend of mine and she reminds me she is a changed person from the way she used to be. Her mother still lives in California but in a better neighborhood now but she is planning a trip to see her mother. My friend often tells me years ago she and I would have never gotten along because she had so much anger inside her. I am glad my friend did get out of that neighborhood alive and somehow found in her heart to not keep anger inside.

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

My parents sat me down and went over with me again the family values that they wanted to instill in my sibling and myself. They brought back our religious beliefs that we have also grown up with and we may not chose to live our life by all the ways of the Catholic faith but to live a humble and honest life is what my parents have wanted for us. I do feel that even though I may not go to church every Sunday, I do believe in the ways of the lord now. I have asked for forgiveness and try to make sure that I live the type of life that makes god and my family proud of me.

Imagine your life being confined to eight and half square miles. This was a reality for me, up until age 14, when I first adventured out of my home state.

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,

I hope you will remember when we met in California, I was visiting Becky Palacios in Glendale. I heard Jackie Porter is working at the Texas Education Agency, recently named the Early Childhood Executive Director. I applied at TEA, hoping for the manager's position in the Early Childhood Department. Jackie and I met while working at Pearson Publishers, with Gloria Horner, the Texas Manager, nevertheless, I don't think if it's appropriate for an applicant to communicate with her. Recently my husband, works for AARP in San Antonio, had a change in his job position, which means he might be working out of Austin again. If an occasion arises, you happen to see or talk to Jackie, I would appreciate a kind word regarding my interest.

My father finally spoke up and said abruptly, we are moving to California. I said what!. That answer moving to California, was almost equal to my uncle telling me "Your Sister Jackie is dead." I knew that my girlfriend, my anchor on earth was disappearing from my life. And now she was gone, 35 days after I lost my sister. My earth angle, I dreamed of being my wife was gone. I felt like I was having a nightmare and couldn't wake up, how could all this be happening to me. Despair sit like a stone in my stomach, like concrete boots dragging me toward what felt like my inevitable end. "I'm not going to make it. "I was in a state of melancholy depression.Laced with a fatal sense of my own wretchedness. I was fourteen years old and felt like I was

The blaring noise of the wind through the streets mixed with the severe weather alerts on our cellphones. Through my window, I could make out silhouettes of trees blowing uncontrollably through the rain. This was not something that I was expecting during the holiday season. On the night of December 26, 2015, our family went into a safe room inside of our house and braced ourselves for the tornado that was tearing through my hometown.

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.

"Well, those residents were homes of the, you might say, the elite of Los Angles, movie people, politicians and the like... They would kind of like, well like yourself, they would rent these places as a kind of getaway... I guess over time for some reason or other, like I guess all things, they lost interest, and the houses just set there abandoned. That was a long time ago... But about 50 or so years back, the city of Fresno got a grant from the state for infrastructure.... Hired a lot of workers from all over, Fresno not being LA, they got permission to convert some of these big houses into rooms and apartments... Cut em' up and redesigned them... Some they left the way they were, I spect they let these out to the bosses and their families...

My father started his job as a software engineer in 1997. He works for Tata Consultancy Services(TCS) and is a delivery manager. He has been to the US seven times until now. When he came back to India from his sixth trip, he was transferred to the San Jose branch of TCS. He came to Fremont in March 2015, then considered to settle there because it had better-rated school. The apartment he chose was close to his office and my school.

2015 marks the first year that my life ventured beyond Dallas County. I was born in the suburbs of Rowlett, Texas 19 years ago. I lived in Rowlett with my mom, dad and sister until we moved just across town to Rockwall when I was 11. I still live in Rockwall to this day with my family and two dogs, Mack, a bulldog and Bruno, a boxer— they are my pride and joy.

Hello, Josh! I enjoyed your post and for the most part I agree with you. The image you posted is breathtaking and I do believe it to be art. However, I think I could take a beautiful picture of downtown Orange (in the right setting) and to me it could be art. Catching the beauty in something is what photographic art is. For people who have lived in Orange all their lives, it may cause them to reminisce of all the good times and bad times they have had in this city. Overall, I do believe a picture can not be completely mundane and count as art such as a picture of me in front of Walmart. Great post!

My family at that point consisted of both my parents and I. This changed as I now have three other siblings who came along at various points along the way in my life. I only stayed in my first hometown of Bellevue, Washington for three years as my mother grew homesick for her beloved family in Massachusetts. Fast forward a few years to the age of 6, and now my family owned and continues to own a wonderful house in the stellar town of Newburyport, Massachusetts. As we settled down to our new surroundings my parents looked for a catholic grammar school in my area, where I could attend school. They found the Immaculate Conception, a small school of about 250 kids. This school turned out to be my school for the next nine years, and laid the groundwork of both my education and moral values.

My parents raised me in Christian home since I was born. They would take me to church every time they had the opportunity to take me. However, once I was seven years old, my parents, unfortunately, left the church because they disliked how the new pastor was running the church. Growing up, my parents never fully rejected the Gospel and biblical values, although they stopped regularly attending a church. One a year I would attend church, but I never took it seriously. After leaving the church, my parents constantly argued. Once I turned sixteen, my father became violent towards my mother. Authorities had to get involved at one point. Attempting to restore their relationship, they decided to visit a church that my father's brother was attending.