Personal Narrative-Racism

“Some of the furnishings and beds could use an update. The pool table was an amenity we were looking forward to using but it was broken.”

My Race is Caucasian. My Ethnicity is a German- American. My father was adopted from southern Germany at age of two, into an Italian military family. My mother’s parents came from southern Germany, after world War two. I grew up going to a German afterschool program, where I learned the German language and culture. I am able to speak, write, and understand a fair amount of German. I also danced and was part of a German-Bavarian club until age 12. My sex is female. I believe that my social class would be upper middle class, however, on the lower side of upper middle class. I technically live in Mount Kisco NY, however I went to Chappaqua schools. I spent all of my time in Mount Kisco, my best friend in high school, also was not from Chappaqua

-I was walking across the busy, Hallway to head back to my class after printing out my essay until-- ACHOOOOOO!!! Someone exactally five inches away from me sneezes without covering themselves! COUGH COUGH!!! And that person coughed onto their hands! Unwanted, slimy, Mucus, Irritating Saliva, and Skeevy germs fly into to the air and hands, landing onto anything across them. Eeugh, why didn’t they cover? Why did they use their hands? Why, Why, Why?!?!

Looking around I was shocked: no animal heads on the wall or blood on the floor and there definitely wasn’t his arm in a glass case. In fact, it looked like any other home to me: a warm fireplace and pictures on the wall of friends, family . . . and medals? I was pulled out of my thoughts when a warm scent hit my nose. I looked over to see him holding a tray of cookies and warm cocoa. He offered me a seat and I eagerly asked about all the pictures and medals.

I was born into a multicultural environment that allowed me to understand new perspectives and the world around me. At the start of my life, I was born into a poor Mexican family with no hope insight for a future that we could start anew. Through this, I learned humility, an understanding that no matter who we are or how we started, we can become so much more than we were before. By the time I was 5, my father and mother, poor illegal immigrants, had created an empire for themselves from the basis of a flower shop, and just like Andrew Carnegie, they became inspirations for many poor Mexicans back in my hometown of Cuernavaca, and  icons for myself. Their newfound riches provided me with ambition, a new understanding into the importance of

Since the fall semester last year, I have been living in a dorm room during the spring and fall semesters. This has been my first time living somewhere other than my parents’ house. Our room is set up so that my roommate and I have our own bedrooms and share a bathroom. We also share a living room with two other people. One of the most substantial changes is that I feel like I have more privacy. At my parents’ house I didn’t have a lock on my bedroom door, so my parents or my brother could just walk in at any time. Now in my dorm room, I can just lock my door and I do not have to worry about anyone coming in. Another change is my parents used to tell me I need to clean my room or make my bed, but now I can set up my room however I want without having to worry. My parents also used to do most of the cleaning around the house and always had things like cleaning supplies or medicine, but now I take care of that, so it makes it feel more like my own area that I look after. Even though I had my own bedroom, it still always felt like I was living in my parents’ house, but now it really

I am a 17 year old Hispanic female who was born in Denver, Co. I now live in the northern part of Denver. I attend an Apostolic church and participate in many of their activities.

Racial Inequality Situation : A black man in jail thinking about the unfair society I had a pencil the year I came to jail It wore out in a week from writing Penning down my thoughts for all I can Crying in the jail cell counting the bars I sat down on the cold floor with many scars I was all alone No family, no friends, separated from home

I have this fear of being demoted because the way I look. I’m in a constant battle with the questions, am I white or am I mexican? I have an identity crisis on my hands, and growing up those questions weren’t any of my concerns. During the duration of my experiences involving race I have been placed into stereotypes that deceive who I really am. I would look too “mexican” to wear that outfit or I would sound too “white” to learn Spanish. Racial categories are both confusing and senseless, yet is a significant part in our society.

Truth to be told: I don’t particularly pay attention to national events or issues. My family is also incapable of comprehending national issues, especially my parents who do not have any level of proficiency in English. My family lives in a world where we go with the flow, but there are issues that I contemplate whether or not I should be involved in, particularly race inequality. Considering the amount of tension between policemen and African-American around the nation, the race to equal treatment is still ongoing.

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.

Do most of the roommates work 9 to 5? I am a night owl and your roommate said you all respectful

“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).

However, when I got there I thought I understood everyone’s fears for me. Right next to the police station, I saw what seemed like hookers on the street’s corner, and I saw a man pull open the fence corner to get into an apartment complex next door. My friend and I tried to hide everything in my car, and I parked amongst the police cars thinking that would be safest.

I smile real big and said please come in and as he walks in he then asks about me peeking through the window and i said yes i know. He asks for a room I already have one for him so I let him up the stairs. But before he is asking how much i charge i don’t charge that much. My house did look nice it was decorated and was very warm and since it is so hot in here i ask him if i can hang up his coat and I’m pretty sure he is weird out that there is no other coats or hats there. I lead him then up stairs and I keep telling him that it is just us and i don’t really get visitors that often. I let him know that the 2nd floor is mine we go up more stairs and I let him know this is his stop. I let him know that I put a water bottle between the sheets to air them out and cleaned the sheets. He starts un packing and while that I ask him if he wants supper or has he ate any. He isn’t hungry so I will just go down