Personal Narrative-Stereotypes

I differed from the majority. I was never into pop music, never into fashion, never into celebrities or idols. However, I was not aware of this until I reached an age where my peers in school no longer accepted my differentiating thoughts.

There was a time when I was young, innocent, stupid, and a scaredy cat. This happened when I was about 9 years old, when the world consisted of cartoons, school, and lots of sugar. My brother on the other hand preferred stuffed animals and dolls, and he had this one stuffed doll that looked like a farmer that wore a blue overall and had orange hair. I and my brother shared a room and he would always align all his stuff animals and dolls in an orderly fashion on the desk where they all were pointed towards us, when we were asleep.

FUN! CHEEKY! GIGGLES! Those are the best words to describe @amandaware1 who is, quite easily, one of the few so-much-fun-my-sides-hurt #models I've met so far. Completely and utterly entertaining to hang out with, if not slightly insane, I genuinely didn't want to leave her place after filming her cook her classic #breakfast dish which - yes really - included GLUTEN-FILLED WHITE PROCESSED BREAD. If ever there was a sign that you're back in England that would be it. We poke fun (way too much) at health trends, healthy eating and get down to the details on what made the Aussie (former #ANTM I'll have you know!) babe choose infinitely grey London over the golden coast. Also, editing this was the easiest video so far and every time I replay it,

Uncomfortable situations are not fun for anybody, but sometimes things are not what they seem. Last summer on an average Friday I was preparing myself for my big lacrosse tryout the following day. At the same time I was also preparing myself for the wide spread of personalities on the team, but listening to all the stereotypes and experience, I thought I knew what they would be like. I assumed I was walking into a tryout with a bunch of rich, snobby, arrogant cities boys, which knew daddy had money. As I drove the boring, simplistic hour and a half drive that’s all I could think about. I was concerned when I should have been excited. As I arrived at my grandparents, I settled myself down and prepared for bed, it was going to be an early morning and a long day.

Imagine the typical asian household. Most people would think of a plain, very quiet house with children that are constantly studying mathematics or practicing the piano. Their parents probably wouldn’t like their children to be doing anything but studying. These students are not involved in the school as much, and focus mainly on studying, getting good grades, and getting into a good college. This is what most people would think when they see an asian kid in the hallways of school. They would be the quiet, shy kids that aren’t really interested in anything, really. I, however, do not fit into this stereotype.

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

Following along with my nocturnal routine, I scroll past digital photos people feel important enough to put on display for the rest of us. Strategically placed untouched meals, someone’s face, professional photo of a dog, photo of a physical photo of what appears to be an 80s-teenage bedroom, promotion for the new Shins album I have already preordered, professional photo of a dog. I return to the photo of the 80's teen. The caption reads “OK but look @ my mom’s 1980's bedroom #tbt.” Although I find this use of millennial language to be a bit distasteful, the tenderness behind a daughter presenting her access to her mother’s adolescence strikes me. Introspection comes at the oddest times. What would I, in fifteen years, have to show my children?

A problem i feel , i would like to change within myself is overthinking , and my attitude . The reason i feel this way i , because it tends to set me back from accomplishments , and set goals that i have for myself in life . I tend to go into these different type moods every once in a while . Sometimes my attitudes can get me in a lot of trouble at times . Me as a person i would like to work on it , because there are places i would like to go in the world . I realized that if i don’t change my bad habits i will result in major consequences . I will say the real its not easily trying to overcome this issue , because you are faced with a ‘lot of different people . Sometimes they can make you get out your character . It’s a very big obstacle

2 a. I stereotyped my now best friend but a year ago stranger. We were both from the same sports conference, meaning that our high schools played against each other. By just looking at her she seemed to be normal, but was definitely a flirt. When seeing that it reminded me to what my friends and I always thought of that group of girls from her school, which was a Catholic school. We always thought those Catholic school girls were harlots ( I don't feel comfortable saying the actual words in this). So seeing this girl flirt with guys left and right, I though our assumption was correct. I acted like I wasn't into getting to know her. I tried to avoid her many times, which is very unlike me.

One of my most prevailing character flaws happens to be my sense of timidity. Most people find me unapproachable, intimidating and distant. I would be lying if I said I was an out-going extrovert. Although being soft-spoken has always been a challenge of mine, I simply would not be myself any other way.

Through much of my childhood, my parents homeschooled me. Every Tuesday I attended a one-day school with other homeschoolers. Because homeschooling can make you feel separated from the rest of the world, I believe my parent’s intention was to encourage socialization. Unfortunately, this didn’t play out in actuality. The people I was introduced to had very different backgrounds and beliefs than me. For instance, two girls were sharing stories about their family life. One of the girls mentioned she had a gay uncle -- whispering the word like it was a disgraceful secret. In my science class, information about climate change and evolution was actively omitted. To my knowledge, almost everyone was religious and if there were people who weren’t, they certainly didn’t openly admit it. A weakness I had was that I refused to try and understand others’ points of view. This contributed to me feeling like I was different and made it even harder to relate to the people around me since I didn’t give getting to know them a fair shot. I had been given the opportunity to be a part of a community, but I felt alienated because I couldn’t relate to them and I often felt even more alone.

At a young age I was thought by my parents to ignore people who constantly make fun of me. Back to my younger days, I was always teased by my classmates and continually get called “China.” People were stereotyping and I was being labeled down because I was Asian. Students used to think I was very smart, some were even making fun of me because of my accent and how I speak. Last but not least was all Asians were considered “Chinese”

I grew up with five older sisters, but don’t let that fool ya. Girls are tougher then you think. They are mean and devous. I learned to be smart and bid my time whenever I wanted reveange. For years they tormented me and managed to always pin me to the ground when we wrestled. This is a story of payback, when we finaly get even.

I opened my tired eyes and studied my surroundings. It was cold, very cold. My head bounced back and forth on a white, metal surface so I guessed I was in some sort of moving vehicle. The vehicle smelled of smoke and wine. “We’ve got a runner here boss, tried to escape through the window of a twelve story hospital. Ha!” A rugged voiced man mumbled. “Then she’s not a runner, she’s a fool.” Exclaimed a more coherent man. The men continued to make sexist jokes for another half hour. In those thirty minutes, I devised a plan on how I was going to escape: Wait for the sexist men to open the doors, then run like hell. The van eventually came to a stop. The men rose from the metal ground, grunting and coughing. I was ready. The man with the rugged

The beliefs that I have are that with passion turns to motivation and get achievements from that motivation. Anything can turn into passion just from something you like to do. Through my experience I have learned that when doing something you enjoy it drives a passion and gives motivation to be better from that passion. From all of that passion you’re able to achieve a lot with that motivation.