Personal Narrative : Personal Experience

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.

Hello, Dr. Taft, I look forward to another exciting semester with you, and my cohorts exploring my inner and outer world. Let’s start with my family constellations it begins with my stepmother, and my father, my older brother Steven along with myself. At the time, I did not know that Ann was my stepmother, and I did not find out until I was older, and she had two sons who lived in Arizona. A few years later her eldest son Tommy would come to live with us, and the life that we were accustomed to would change the outcome of all our lives.

I am not one to pick up hitchhikers, it’s just not safe, everyone knows that but for some

I was twelve years old when my family moved to the mountains of Humboldt County we moved at the beginning of winter and my father said there would be snow where we were going to live. I had never seen snow before and I couldn’t wait to build snowmen, throw snowballs and build igloos, like I had seen children on television do. A child’s excitement blossomed at the prospect of a new winter paradise

I didn’t make any mistakes. I was the perfect gentleman every girl likes to talk about, but would run for the hills if they had to put up with a blank piece of paper. Well, the evening was over now and I was pulling up to her front door. To my surprise, her parents were waiting for the two of us with bright smiles.

Some of the hardest things in life make you realize what you really appreciate. One such instance took place in a remote part of Wyoming far away from everything and everyone. However, such an experience made one couple closer and taught them how valuable family really is.

I was only thirteen when I first began to ask “who am i?” My parents would tell me stories of where I’m from, and how Sudan is like. My little brain couldn’t grasp the idea of having family, people that look like me, in the other side of the world. Going there was a dream for me, I had this vision in my head, this adventure I thought waiting for me, and so, I began to nag! “Can we go this summer daddy?” became one of my favorite things to say. I asked and asked, until I got what I wanted.

This will be my ninth week working with Community Partnership of the Ozark. During this week I was able to help set up for a Triple P training and I also began to read my Facilitators manual for the Triple P training I took last week on level 2.I set up for a level 3 training, I set up the tables and chairs in a U shape in order to create equality and interaction. I also made sure they had all the materials required in order to do the training. The training is intended for parents with children ages 0-12. Level 3 consists of a four session intervention, target parents of children with mild to moderate behavior difficulties and includes active skills training for parents (Ralph and Sanders). Level 3 is a face to face or telephone intervention

Time passed as I remained in that kitchen chair. Until the doorbell broke me out of my continuous, horrific train of thoughts, that is.

The universe sometimes chuckles at people who make plans. Not many teenagers expect relocation during high school, particularly to start off their senior year. I was one of those teens that should have. I always enjoyed my sheltered existence in a protective bubble in a place that I had lived in my entire life. The universe not only chuckled at me and my plans, it laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

Have you ever been so mad at one of your parents and said something you regret? Well I sure have... and my mom heard it.

My eyes shoot open, blood rushes through my veins, a harsh ring pierces my ears, adrenaline jumpstarts my nervous system. Catapulting out of bed, feet crash onto the wood floor with a resounding thud, vibrations shoot up my legs. Intent on murdering my morning nemesis, I take aim at the blaring red-eyed demon sitting next to the fan. Striking with a swift click of the on/off switch, I end the incessant blare of my alarm. "6:15, Monday, not late." A relieved sigh escapes my lips, gaze shifting to my dresser. My anxiety calms quickly, and I notice the cold wooden floor nips at my toes.

On a drizzly Sunday evening my first summer in New York City, I was walking in Chelsea when a man rode up beside me on a bike. I really don’t want to bother you, he began, a baleful look in his brown eyes, but this ridiculous thing just happened to me. He explained that the costumes he had designed for a Broadway show had accidentally been locked in his apartment, and he had lost his keys. He just needed to borrow a little money so he could get in touch with his assistants and sort the whole thing out.

“Rima, honey, hurry up or you'll be late for school." my father called down the stairs, trying to make it seem like he still cares.

Do you ever miss the sense of unfamiliarity a space used to hold for you? Perhaps attempted to remember the feeling you had the very first time you walked through the place you now confidently call home? I crave the rush of exploring somewhere foreign to me, and chase the excitement of strange settings tirelessly. While walking towards the famous Sweet Auburn Market with my classmates, my mind was already racing. I couldn’t help but wonder how differently each one of us would experience and view the space. We all carry lenses through which we view the world with styles original to us. Amazingly we all come from an extremely diverse range of cultures, backgrounds, and personal experiences that would shape the connections we would soon make.