Personal Narrative: Summary

Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.

P: Timothy will recognize existing feelings of anger, discover the origins of such feelings, and find alternative ways to ease, express, and resolve such feelings.

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

Baghdad, Iraq is where I was born and raised; I lived there for about 6 years during the most pivotal years of the war. My dad left when I was about 7 months. He went to Lebanon to live for a few years before settling in the United States. My mom took care of me and my siblings. War was going on in Iraq; people walked with a dying heart. Iraq was split into Shiite, Sunni, and Christianity. Sunni and Shiite do not have any issues with one another, but there are people who do not like the Shiites and caused civil strife between the two divisions of Islam. My family is Shiite and we do not believe in a separation between anyone because we are one, they are

I like to beat the rush for lines and do not prefer being late, but

For the first ten years of my life, I had a very normal childhood. I went to a private catholic school in a small town called Westwego. We were about twenty five minutes south of New Orleans. During the summers, friends and family would come over to our house and we would all swim and boil seafood. The summer of 2005 was no different; I was looking forward to entering 5th grade. Fast forward to one week before school is about to start when Hurricane Katrina formed in the Atlantic Ocean. Hurricanes were no strangers to us as we have been through several throughout the years. However, a few days later the storm is upgraded to a Category 3 and is predicted to hit New Orleans dead on. My parents felt it was time for us to leave and we traveled

At the beginning of my freshman year I was attempting to develop motivation as well as seeking purpose and determining value. Whether in school or during sports or other activities and events in my life, I was constantly searching for motivation towards a goal or achievement.

On Saturday, August 01, 2015, approximately 239 hours, I was dispatch to Conyers Police Department, 1147 Scott St. Upon my arrival, I met with the complainant Jeanette Higgins. Higgins advised me that her wrist wallet had been taken from the counter top as she purchased her items at Ross, 2203 Ga Highway 20.

How much are you willing to sacrifice for another life? When it came down to my parents they had to sacrifice everything. Moving from Albania to America was one of the hardest obstacles they faced, but it was one of the greatest gift that our family ever got. When I was a little girl I dreamed of coming to America. Most of my cousins lived here and I always heard of the opportunities and success I could have. Every time my cousins would come to Albania they would tell me all these stories. When they left I always wished to go with them, but I was always told I couldn't go and I never understood why. My parents would tell me that I didn't have papers. On day my dad secretly went out and played the lottery. In America, the lottery is the opportunity to winning millions of dollars. In other countries, winning the lottery is life changing.It's being able to come to America, a place I always imagined being magical. My dad always tells me, you will never lose anything by trying something new. You will either win or learn. If it wasn't for him applying for the lottery, I would have a very different story to tell, (try to talk about how my life is changing, in what access you have in albanian and what the lottery has been life changing

One of two. That's how I feel everyday of my life. I'm a twin and that means I will never be complete without my other half. When I was younger, I learned that having a twin does not keep me from things. It's getting to have a person in my life that I don't need to hide from, other than in hide and seek. When I was little, my brother probably hated me as much as I hated him. But we were together all the time. We went to school together, we were in the same class almost all the time. Sometimes, we had the same friends even. We shared birthday parties, cakes, presents, money. Basically the same things we still share now. But between us, we shared secrets. Little things that we thought were so cool. When my grandma gave us money, we split it and made sure not to tell our parents. I went and bought

Every student is excited when school starts. New classes, new backpacks, new clothes, and seeing all your friends is a part of this excitement. The first few weeks are new; no homework, plenty of free time, etc. But after two or three months, school isn’t cool anymore. The homework piles up, the tests are being printed, but how much stress can you take before it’s too much?

I was not an intentionally bigoted twelve-year-old. I was raised in an affluent suburban community where the vast majority of people are white. The 100% white private nursery school which I attended was chosen by my parents largely due to its proximity to our home. My public elementary school was about 70% white as it was populated with students who resided nearby. Finally, the private middle school which I attended, located almost an hour from my home, provided me with exposure to the most diverse student body of my youth as it was comprised of about 65% Caucasian children. What each of these formative academic experiences shared in common was both that their student bodies were disproportionately Caucasian, as well as that their senior administrators

There is someone I wish was still around from before that is my dad. He passed away in the first week of summer the summer before 6th grade. I lived with my mom until I was 7 then he went and got visitations so he seen me every Wednesday and every other weekend in the summers I was at his house 1 week and my mom's 1 week. Sometimes when he was close to my house or my grandmas he would bring me "care packages" they were mainly toys the one I remember was he was at Walmart and in the middle of the night he brought me Legos the Legos were batman ones. One Christmas he brought my a huge monster truck it was remote control it was about 2 feet tall I had it for a couple years I really liked to do donuts with it in the snow. He had a girl fried and

It was the final night of the camping trip. My family had come to the woods, and having spent two days toughing it out in a tent, we decided to treat ourselves and stay in a cabin. The day was well spent and included fishing, roasting marshmallows, and playing games with my mom, dad, and little sister, Payton. Understandably, all four of us were exhausted. Things started to go wrong when I entered the cabin bedroom.

The teenage boy stood there still as stone, a marble statue, his flesh had gone beyond the colour of marble, to a new ghostly tinge of white, void of colour. His eyes were the only thing expressing any emotion, and that was fear. Extreme fear, the kind where you can feel your impending death, as it stares you in the face. After moments of complete petrification the traumatised boy spoke in a shaky and terrified voice.
“W-Why are you h-here Lock, get away from me please…” he said to my boyfriend, his eyes flinching, as if his body wasn’t still petrified. Eric, my boyfriend, chuckled loudly, that real genuine laugh, the one that your dad would make which felt warm and hearty like a hug during a thunderstorm. Usually it’d lighten up a conversation,