Personal Narrative: Racial Diversity In The Classroom

As a child between the ages of three and four, you start to discover whom you are from the color of your skin to the social gender identity in the world. As a little girl every time I looked in the mirror I noticed the color I was brown and when I was at school I was always separated with the specific group to go in girl’s bathroom. Going to elementary school you learned about many topics in history class but the two topics that relate to black children is slavery and civil rights movement. When you reach middle school, you begin to learn about women’s rights suffrage movement and how we as women are still fighting for rights. In school to this day as a college student, all I ever learned is how women and African American’s are mistreated in

Too black for the White kids, yet somehow too white for the Black kids, oh the perils of a cappuccino mixed race kid. But it’s true. My life since I was young, at least younger than my eighteen year old self, has been about which group do I most fit in with. Between the four school changes over the course of twelve years, all in white suburban towns I’ve molded myself into an array of characters.

On February 1st, I visited the Britton Macon Area School. The teacher I observed was Ms. Richardson. She teaches a self-contained classroom for middle and high school grades. I started the observation at 8:00 A.M. until 11:32 A.M.

I am an African American. You must be wondering what’s my name since im “black”, you might be thinking that its ghetto, right? No need to know where I came from, you must think that I come from the projects right? It’s not like it’s important to you. You probably think that my future plans are that I won’t finished high school and that I will become pregnant. One look at the color of my skin is all it takes. Right? Look again.

Growing up, I’ve struggle becoming a successful African American male from Detroit. I have been through racial barriers because of my skin complexion. I have been scrutinized heavily just because of my skin color. However, my skin tone is just a physical feature and it does not determine the upcoming success I will have later in life. However, I have an excessive amount of plans that I will conquer to succeed without a doubt. My first priority for my future after my life in high school is to attend Michigan State University. When I received my decision letter and found out that I was accepted to my dream school on December 8, 2017. I knew that my future was not an imagination anymore. My future came became a reality. Furthermore, my first step is to further my education at one of Michigan’s top schools for medicine.

Today was a great day, it was time for someone to make a change. Four African American college students were brave enough to start the change and they were Blair, Richmond, McCain and McNeil, they attend the same college as I do, but I don’t really talk to them as I might get caught from the professors or even my peers and can get a beaten.

I'm a student from another school the main school I went to was Potomac State College in West Virginia. It's a predominally white school and it was a couple of African Americans and greater part whites. The sum prejudice I continued at that school was sufficient for me to go to HBCU. I got shot at and called a wide range of names because of the shade of my skin. I wasn't generally glad where I inhabited as well. It was nation situated; the closes store was 1 hour away. It takes a while to go anyplace. It simply wasn't the spot for a city young lady like me.

I am an African-American male who grew up in a community that was not fortunate enough to have access to many luxuries, especially a computer science education. Seemingly in every aspect of my life, I have been the exception. Many times I was the only African-American student in my Advanced Placement courses in high school, in terms of sports I had always been the sole African-American and the shortest player on all my lacrosse teams, and progressing through school I often times was the only person out of my group of friends who wanted to do something more with the life I was given. People like me are not supposed to escape the cycle of poverty and inequality that plague the community I call home. I am not a product of the ‘projects’ or come

“Get out of my car,” said my mom with a smile. Wearing an unnecessarily large backpack and reveling in the significance of the moment, I caught my reflection in the window: a young, slender boy with dark skin from my father, almond-shaped eyes from my mother, and a big smile all my own. I had a little hop in my step, pleased with what I saw. It was my first day at Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology (TJ).

I interviewed an African American male in his 50s. This means he is in the middle adulthood stage of life. One of the biggest challenges that he faces is being black in America. He seemed to have a whole lot to say about this concept and struggle that he faces. Every day, all over the country, criminal activity is happening at a seemingly higher and higher rate. The evil that inhabits the globe can never be ended. There are few people, still, who choose to try. The police, the government, the news teams, all of these groups of people are supposedly dedicated to awareness and driven to push crime down to a minimum by alerting the people and keeping the peace. A self-governing species as they are, humans are prone to error, fallibility, and imperfection,

17 years. I have been on this Earth for 17 years now. Looking back on the years I’ve already spent make me wonder, not who I’ve been nor who I am now, but who I will be. I choose to live in the now, for the later. I often think about what I may be or do later in life. But everything I do and every choice I make in the present is what will lead me to my future. Now, all I know is that to get somewhere you have to be someone. So who am I? And what makes me who I am today?

The world is over 196 million square miles that is home to over 7 billion people all with unique qualities and backgrounds. Me being a caucasian living in Lakewood Colorado I lived though the generic lifestyle of a christian. Church every Sunday and quiet family meals were normal for us but what I didn’t realise was that there was a whole world of ethnically and culturally different people just an ocean away.

First, I’d like to start off this question by saying when I attend Huntington University in the fall of 2016, I plan on starting and participating in a pep band for the home basketball games. As a Horizon Leader, I can offer a different perspective of any stereotypes anyone may have already made. Since I am biracial with White and African American, I am apart of extremely different cultures in my everyday life. As a Horizon Leader I can inform and influence current students on the cultures I am exposed to, that they may not be. As a minority, I feel like it is my job and responsibility to be the representation of the Black community. But not only the black community, but the multiracial community as well, because being multiracial is a culture

Being Asian in a racially homogenous school, it was evident that I did not belong. The manners I have learned as child, such as bowing adults, avoiding eye contact, and receiving items from adults using two hands, only helped my difference less subtle. In high school, I was excited to start a bible study class for recent Korean immigrant teenagers. My Korean language skills combined with my, now, more American mannerisms were deemed too American. Even with my efforts, I was eventually rejected from the group as a “Korean wannabe.” At UIC, I automatically sought out other Korean American students. I had initially thought that with our relatively similar upbringings would unite us. I only came to realize that the university’s sole Korean American

In school we look normal to all people like nothing was happening i was gland that my sister and I were in the same high school but different floors. My school was mixed, Hispanics from Honduras, Mexico, Puerto Ricans, but mostly Dominicans, African Americans, etc. My teachers were A few African Americans, one Spanish, and mostly White Caucasians. All my teachers were so lovely except for one, he was African American and he was a history teacher. It was my freshman year and I couldn’t express myself properly in English, he asks me to read a page of a book, and I didn’t have the abilities to pronounce properly most of the words. The teacher lost his patience and shouted me “what I was doing in a school where no one speak Spanish” I responded