Personal Narrative : Personal Stereotypes In The Life Of My Life

I was born and raised in the small but growing city of Perris, CA. This isn’t the best city out there but it tends to grow on you, and you begin to truly love it for what it is. The people, however, not so much. The community can vary from which part of the city you’re in. That’s because there’s diversity here in Perris. I’m a product of this diversity, being half Mexican and half African American. My parents fell in love after high school and later on began a family. I am the youngest of five. I have two older brothers, an older sister, and an older cousin who lives with us. The order is boy, girl, boy, boy, girl with my cousin being included in there too. We all live in the same house with my parents and are quite close with each other. They all seem to have raised me growing up due to the fact that my parents were busy trying to provide for us. This was a challenge by itself, resulting in lots of house moving and my father being unemployed for six years after losing his job. I never complained about moving because I knew that my parents were doing their absolute best and were working with all that they had and then some. This unquestionably made me adaptable to new environments and gave me a

2014 Fall Semester in the begining was going pretty good i was excited to began school , adapting to the new college life, and interacting with friends and new people. I was attending all my classes on time , studying , and completing the required assigments that needed to be done. I also was working a full-time at Gensis Logistics it wasnt easy trying to manage my schedule , but i tried to make it work the best i could. MTE 1 , 3 , and SDV was a breeze to me I was completing my assigments , studying , and understanding the information that was given to me. Now on the otherhand ENG wasn't hard for me i just didnt understand the content that was teached by the teacher. English was always the strongest subject for me so i couldnt understand why it was such a problem in college , maybe it was the teacher and her teaching methods. I never understood any information that was given it seemed to me like our class was always off topic one class period we would talk english, and then another class period we would talk about something else besides english. Then she assigned papers and assigments that was unfamilar to me it seem like everytime she assigned the class papers

With the roadblocks in Callie's adoption it's been a long couple of months, but she was finally getting adopted tomorrow. The whole family couldn't wait for her to officially be a Adams-Foster.

Of course the norm for me is that of any citizen living in zone three.

The social norm I broke is making too much eye contact, or staring excessively, at my teachers. While sitting in class, I stared at my teachers more than I stared at my paper or looked around the classroom. It is usually normal for students to stare down at their desks and not look at the teacher a lot.

Lux stands there motionless. Mallory and Anastasia run over embracing her. Walking her over to the couch to sit down.

I grew up as one of the hardest things to commit to, black and alternative. My meaning of alternative is being interested in goth fashion and heavy metal music. From what I was told, being black is listening to hip-hop and dressing like everyone else around them or what is the social norm. Clearly, my definition of alterative is contrasting on what it means to be “black.” I say it's hard to commit because coming from a closed black family, I felt pressed to let go of what I felt about myself just to make them happy. Questions like, ‘’Why are you trying so hard to be different?’’ or ‘’Who told you that was okay?’’ Still replay in my head whenever I decide to wear something that I would feel most comfortable in. Not long ago, I got into an arguement

With regards to my own experiences with social class, I recall times from my own childhood. I grew up in a college town full of highly educated people. Most of the children I grew up with came from very affluent families who lived in very lavish, costly homes. My parents did not have the educational background or financial means to provide the lavish life that most of my friends were living. As younger children, my mother always did a good job of providing for our needs. Other than the outward differences of the home I lived in (which was nice, but modest), or the cars we drove, I was unaware of the differences, those became more apparent as I grew older. Most of my friends took family vacations at least twice every year that involved flying

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.

I personally found trying to find a single “Social Norm” to break challenging so I chose to do two instead. The first was to end my phone calls with I love you, and to talk to a stranger in the bathroom stall next to my own. Which is how I confessed my undying love to a coworker. Working at a casino, employees have to call surveillance for anytime they move around with money or have to be escorted to the vault. I’m a pretty lively person but going into work, I started to get this bashful nature about myself especially the closer it came to performing both of the social norms I gave myself to break.

“You’re pretty for someone who has dark skin.” I stood there in the middle of my 10th grade English class, stunned. Trying to fathom whether or not to accept it or acknowledge it was a backhanded compliment. I sat there thinking to myself did this other student who shares the same color skin as me, just feel the need to associate my beauty despite my color? This was just one of many times in my life I had encountered phrases like that, but that day in my English class, I realized society had created a social norm that just wasn't going to sit right with me.

I was six, I knew that we couldn’t stay one place forever. That concept was foreign. Every few years my family and I were stationed to a new place, this time 45 minutes away. Of course, being the stubborn and impatient six year old I was, that seemed a light year away. I have never had friends that lasted over 3 years. Either they left, or I moved. This time, I left first. My friends were my world. I was happy. They were devastated to get the news of my departure. Tears were mixed with the “goodbyes”, and the occasional “I’ll never forget you”.

As the garage door squeaks open, a little girl no older than five hops down the steps. The smell of chemical-filled gardening treatments and moist soil combines with the humid salty air of the west coast. She frolics towards her array of precious pink playthings, tasked with deciding which bauble could fulfill her imagination’s parched thirst. Unable to find a suitable trinket, the frustrated tot messily attempts to rearrange her possessions as well as her mother had. Bored by organizing, she gives up. She looks around and a shining pink Strawberry Shortcake bike catches her eye. The bike’s white basket called to be filled with eye-catching rocks, caught bugs, and unintentionally crushed dandelions. Its handlebars began taunting her with a matching pink helmet, a

First impressions always matter when attending a new school. New schools are also a new start; as a result, it is always hard to try to see if you naturally fit in. Trying to fit in may be difficult may be hard for some kid, but fitting in never truly matters as long as you have the right friends. If you just stay unique instead of being worried about fitting in then you will fit in your own way.

As a 17-year old teenager going to high school, contrary to the environmental activist, David Suzuki’s, remarks about the ignorance of humans about nature, I receive much information about these kinds of problems at my school, from dedicated assemblies, eco fairs and special days that address our responsibility to deal with nature in a more responsible fashion. Yet, when the school day is over, all of the information seeps out of the roof of the school; plastic water bottles are still found in the corners of hallways and leftover Tim Hortons cups are still present in the desks of my former Business class. Even when I step inside the door of my house, the disconnection from nature is apparent. Most of my time at home is spent looking at a screen and doing homework and the only sign of nature would be the fly