Personal Narrative : Personal Writing : Life Changing Instructions

I was ten, the most terrifying event I had been through was riding the little dragon roller coaster at the fair, but that night changed it all. The fear that started in my head spread like wildfire to the rest of my body from the tips of my fingers to the bottoms of my toes. My heart was racing so fast that it could have beat Usain Bolt in a 100m dash. Stop, drop and roll, three steps that should have come naturally, but instead I froze, looked down at my yellow and black checkered flannel in complete terror, fearing for my life.

I had always assumed that my legs were strong and that I had decent muscle control, however, this thought was proven wrong at the beginning of my junior year in high school due to a detrimental injury. It was the first game of fall league for basketball, and within the first five minutes I had succumbed to an injury. Tearing my ACL and Meniscus has taught me to continue improving on my strength, not let this one injury keep me down, and to keep a positive mindset.

Confidence isn’t everything, right? Wrong. Okay maybe it’s not EVERYTHING, but I believe that confidence is something everyone needs. Being able to appear strong and content with yourself to just about anyone and everything out there is key to even the slightest bit of success.

The lessons we take from obstacles we encounter can be fundamental to later success. As long as I can remember me have trouble with reading and I did not know why I was bad at it. My patients eventually came to the conclusion that I had mental problems with reading. I was then put in special reading classes to help with my problem. This brought down my self respect making me feel stupid. This went on for about seven year till I went to high school when I stopped being that kid in the corner. I analyzed my problem to the best of my ability to find out what the trouble I was having and I started to focus on the papers that were important. I got over my problems with reading and on my way to graduate. Overcoming and adapting to the problem that

Home is the beginning of one’s book. It is where your story begins, forms its characters, shows its purpose, and reveals its ora. This is how mine is written. Home is on the buzzing highway down a bumpy gravel road. It’s Brandon, Mississippi. It is the only home I’ve ever known. Home is the smell of homemade biscuits and tomato gravy on Saturday mornings. It is “Bless Your Heart” and “Yes Mam” and “No Sir”. The little bedroom in the back of a grey double-wide where Carrie Underwood songs played and where I learned to curl my hair and put on mascara. My cousins and I running around with mason jars, chasing the lightning bugs. Bar-B-q on the back porch and never meeting a stranger. It is the morals learned and the identity

The writing process feels different to me depending on the topic I am writing about. Topics I don’t care for feel very long and tedious and it seems like I’m spending more time thinking about what to write than actually writing. Topics that I do like on the other hand feel much easier to write about and can feel like I’m almost rambling. My writing process begins with a fairly lengthy brainstorming session.

The writing process has been a difficult process for me for many years. In high school, I did not do well I struggled with coming up with Ideas on how to start my writing. After finishing high school, I worked in the healthcare filled and I was required to chart daily activities for my clients. I found myself constantly misspelling words and writing improper grammar, so I decided to enroll in college and take Composion 1. Writing a complete sentence requires a subject and a verb and has to express a complete though. Also, brain storming was difficult for me to create, I would have my first clue then get lost on what to do next. Over time after some proper tutoring my writing improved a little. I would say writing takes time and what would

My guided lesson 3 went really well this week. This week the lesson had been implemented exactly the way it had been planned. The lesson began with students looking at the title page and making predictions about the book. Everyone had interesting points to share about the predictions they made. I could tell the students were really excited to read this book as it was very colorful and it got their attention. Before we started reading, I asked the students to look for main events that took place in the book as it will help them retell the story at the end. All the students were able to retell the story to me at the end. What went well the most was the fact that my students brought the main events to my attention on their own before retelling

The sound of Carmine’s snoring from across the hall forces its way through my closed door and into my room. It wakes me before my alarm this morning. I’m not sure what time he came in last night, but I must have been in a deep sleep. Slowly, I go through the motions of my morning routine. Taking care not to wake Carmine, I finish getting ready and leave him a note to tell him I’ll be at the library all day. Just as I finish checking my assignments and pack my book bag for the library, I hear my phone ping with a new text message.

Obstacles and barriers are positive reinforcements that help shape and mold individuals. Individuals face innumerable conflicts and barriers throughout their life span; some of them causes dismay, while others successfully manage to bring out the best of a person’s ability. Just like everyone who has set foot on earth, I too, have encountered obstacles. The obstacle which brought out the best in me was when I migrated to the United States and faced difficulties communicating with others.

We live in a world where it is expected that a woman is an independent being outside of her man. While I mostly agree with that, it doesn’t mean I’m going to give him up to finish up my schooling.

You can fold anything into me and it’ll blend. I can write research papers and do group projects, not that I like either of them, but I can do them, without complaining. I can go watch Angus’s band play; I can play pick up ball with Dekalb. I can go to Target on Friday night with Brandy. I can live in Oak Prairie: I can live in the city. I can live here with you, Dad, in this wreck of a house, and I can live with Mom in her mansion that feels like a hotel. I can be your only son, and I can be a big brother. I can be with Angus; I can be with Brandy.

Sunday. I live right next to the old town Pasadena, so I guess it is better for me just walk to the old town, and to do my writing class assignment. I grabbed my white shirt, black cap and most importantly, my notebook. I started walking from my apartment.

“No Bervelynn, you cannot do this and certainly not go to that”. I would hear this phrase more than my name it was unbelievable. My parents were much overprotected they always confined me to the house. That was their way of preventing me from interacting with society and the real world. They were terrified at the thought of me having sex, doing drugs, getting killed, or ending up pregnant. They wanted me to be away from negativity as much as possible. But at that point in time, I had no idea what any of those things were. I was just a young girl, who dreamed of becoming a cheerleader, going to basketball games and Disney world. No matter how much I wished to go out and do guileless things it was always a NO. I often found myself to be confused and dispirited. I became very insecure and unsure of myself. I no longer knew who I was; therefore, I started trying to be just like other people. I dressed how they dressed, spoke how they spoke, and acted how they acted. I tried so hard to fit in. I had this crazy thought that maybe this will make me feel “superior” to other, but boy was I wrong! Unpleasant things kept happening to me because of it. My peers started to realize that I was putting up an act. I started getting brutally bullied daily. A girl even pulled my wig off once, in front of everyone, because they knew that my hair was fake. I had never been so embarrassed in my whole life. After that incident, I began lying to my parents and started skipping school. It

“Thank you.” The classroom is stiflingly quiet except for those two soft words. We clap as she returns to her seat, fumbling with her phone to stop the timer. A lull settles as we wait for the next victim. My hands are already trembling when I realize that I’m next on the chopping block.