Personal Narrative: The Chicken Coop Changed My Life

Most people are all grown up when they finally figure out what they want to do with their life. I was 4. I realized what I wanted to be when I attended my very first Rodeo. Even though it was so long ago I can remember that day like it was yesturday. That day got me on the path to my future.

My home town, where I grew up at, and where I am at now. These three characters link to the three different houses.

At the beginning of this school year, I began to realize something. I realized that my high school years were coming to an end. This was an eye opener for me. I didn't know what to expect of my last year nor what I wanted to do after high school. I then began looking for a job. So I applied to Chick-fil-a. I waited patiently several weeks for a call, but received no call whatsoever. I patiently waited for a new opportunity to come along. Until finally, I was given an opportunity at an electrical shop. On the first day of work I was introduced to the staff and learned the procedures of what needed to be done. My job now was to maintain the shop clean and to keep all materials organized as well as other tasks that helped me grow with my skills.

It's ok, a completely different atmosphere than summit (working In a Cubicle farm now). Each setting has its own positives as well as negatives. The work I'm doing this summer is much less client facing than summit (I'm working on the derivatives external reporting team, so we tell the federal reserve/sec what our Derivitives positions are). It's a good name on my resume, just trying to figure out what path I like better as a career.

vomiting Harold’s Chicken all over the car. My A Ward brothers laughed at me, because they knew that I thought they were drinking lime juice when they were really drinking Tanqueray and lime juice.

Growing up was though. The hardest part was learning how to dwell with unpredictability. When I was a kid, it enchanted me. I was fascinated to observe how randomness could yield starry skies, carve underwater caves or compose the most fascinating stories. Still, I wouldn't let uncertainty flow through my veins. I craved for maintaining the status quo on whatever was within my reach. I built LEGO's exactly as the manuals suggested, did group projects my way and only accepted challenges I could handle. As a child, I was afraid to take a leap beyond my safe boundaries. However, I was obligated to flee far away from them.

The Festival return to Greenfield, MA after being in Turner Fall, MA for a couple of years. I had never been in the Art Block, but found one of their stages The Wheelhouse one to be inmate setting like you what you might find in a coffeehouse. I heard Julia Cira sing on that stage and she had a beautiful voice. One that I like much better than Rosie Porter. It's just a good one to have for ballads. Its a strong one. She plays an electric guitar as well as sings. She was accommodate by a man on drum set and another young woman on an electric guitar. That woman played it well. I listen to her sing a couple of songs and she sang beautifully each time. According to her, They were doing full on rock songs and they sound like very nice quality

Starting over. Those two simple words pretty much sum up where I am at in my life at the moment. I am a 34 year old mother of three. I have never been to college. My husband just recently left me. It has been a whirlwind summer to say the least, but before I get into what brought me back to school, I'll start at the beginning. I was born in FL., and quite literally spent all my time either at the beach or running bare foot on my grandparents farm. I loved every second. Shortly after I turned 8 my mom met my step-dad, and we were quickly headed on our first big adventure, moving to Texas! While I missed my family in FL., I can not tell you enough how happy I was that my mom married my dad. He has been a rock and solid foundation for me my whole

The agency I chose to interview was MyHouse at 300 North Willow in Wasilla, Alaska. Their mission is to provide safe shelter for homeless youth with a goal of connecting kids to a network of caring individuals and agencies able to assist them in becoming self-sufficient. They have a board of directors that meet regularly to discuss issues and where to go next with the agency.

When I make my way to the end of the driveway and out of the cornfields, I become enclosed by yellow, tin sided buildings filled with cattle and machinery. Some people may consider them just buildings to keep the cattle from running away, or to keep the machinery dry. I look at them and see the building blocks of my life and think of all of the memories that have been created, and the stories that can be told. As I look around the yard one building stands out the most, the shop. The shop is a 50x52 foot structure with 14 foot yellow tin side walls and two massive overhead doors in the front. In between the doors is a filthy window with stringy white cobwebs draping from the corners, which should probably be cleaned sometime soon. Above the window hangs an old wooden sign in which my Grandpa had engraved “Zapzalka Farms”, along with a miniature green tractor painted in the corner. When I walk in the door, I take a deep breath and smell the sweet smell of grease and oil along with the blaring noise of dad using the hand

We thought it was a good idea to continue our trip. Marlon was still in his sleeping bag, and had to force him to wake up. We had packed our materials and we’re ready to get out of this wilderness. After a hour of walking, we had come across a farm. The farm looked very different compared to the time we had came from. The tractors were all in dull colors and none of them has a cover. The plowing machinery was also not as advance. In our time, the plowing machine was capable of doing more, and it took less time to plow the whole field. I could already imagine the inconvenience that these farmers had to face. Right next to the field, we saw a small house with a man sitting on the porch reading a newspaper. We all went over to asked for

Beep! Beep! Beep! I rolled over and stopped my alarm that was going off at one in the morning; I had to get up because it was time to check our cows. It was late January and all of our cows started having their calves. Every three hours the cows need checked so everyone in my family had their turn. Now that it was my turn, I crawled out of bed and got dressed to go out into the dark of the night to see if we get to bring another baby calf into this world. I have grown up on a farm with 9,000 pigs, 40 cows, 6 hunting dogs, and 150 acres of alfalfa which requires work that is usually never easy. I have been an active part of the routine care of these animals ever since I was four years old. Living on a farm has helped me learn more about life than most could ever imagine. In Father Boyle’s “Tattoo’s on the Heart” we learned how he gave the homies opportunities that most would never get the chance to have and in order to succeed, you must have failure. Growing up on a farm is an opportunity that most never have, it is like being an outcast. I couldn’t imagine a day in the homies shoes, and they couldn’t imagine a day in mine but we at the end of the day we can all relate to and are all thankful for getting second chances, new opportunities and learning how to forgive.

Growing up on our farm, I watched my Dad and Granddad work from sun up to sun down, often through most of the night. I was always so inspired at their work ethics and how they never quit until they got the job done, and not once was their a complaint. I spent every chance I could up on our farm learning how to operate and run every piece of equipment we had as well as ride a horse and care for our cattle. I was taught a lot of things at an early age; however, the most important thing I learned on our farm had nothing to do with equipment or safety. I learned how to work at what I believed in and never to quit until I achieved what I had set my mind to do. I used what I had learned on the farm and applied it to an early dream I had set as a

The cow crushed me against the metal gate. The beast’s enormous ugly head pressed against my chest and refused to let me escape. I screamed, “SYDNEY! SYDNEY! HELP!”

The heat seeped in all around me and my head felt dizzy. I started after the sheep. They fled in every direction, leading me to sprint after them, gulping in breaths of sticky air. It went on like this for an hour, before Charlotte’s help was necessary. Tired and defeated, I started walking towards the gate again. My legs dragged on the ground. A rock skipped across the ground and swirled up dust after making contact with my boot. The rusty green fence squeaked as it swung open, crying it seemed, about the heat that slurred the farm into one melted green