Personal Narrative: The Color Black

I was born and raised in the small but growing city of Perris, CA. This isn’t the best city out there but it tends to grow on you, and you begin to truly love it for what it is. The people, however, not so much. The community can vary from which part of the city you’re in. That’s because there’s diversity here in Perris. I’m a product of this diversity, being half Mexican and half African American. My parents fell in love after high school and later on began a family. I am the youngest of five. I have two older brothers, an older sister, and an older cousin who lives with us. The order is boy, girl, boy, boy, girl with my cousin being included in there too. We all live in the same house with my parents and are quite close with each other. They all seem to have raised me growing up due to the fact that my parents were busy trying to provide for us. This was a challenge by itself, resulting in lots of house moving and my father being unemployed for six years after losing his job. I never complained about moving because I knew that my parents were doing their absolute best and were working with all that they had and then some. This unquestionably made me adaptable to new environments and gave me a

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.

All throughout time people have been “the other.” Pratt refers to the other as being “Someone who is perceived by the dominant culture as not belonging, as they have been

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.

I do not particularly like when people use this phrase so lightly and to refer to something that is presumably in style. I have not used it myself, even when growing up when it used to be “acceptable”. I personally have a cousin that it’s a few years older than me and due to the era and country we grew up, the resources, for the children and the parents as well, were not available. Her disability was extremely severe strike and my aunt had to put her in an institution, even when she didn’t want to. I did hear other people using the term and it did stroke a chord every time someone would say it – even to this day.

The worker contacted Misty Black who is a friend of Brittany Hardin. Mrs. Black stated “Brittany was in a situation where her ex (well she told me they were already broken up at the time) had assaulted her. Brittany had called me after Ronita Grady had hit her so I immediately called the police and made my way to Brittany. When I arrived the OCPD were already there speaking to Brittany. The officers also spoke to me and I told him I was the one who called them. After the police left Brittany and the boys stayed with me for a couple days because Brittany was still shaken up. The boys all seemed okay, I don’t think they really knew what had just happened. Brittany thanked me for helping her, because at the time we weren’t really speaking to

It all began in the year 1955. This was the year that so many great things shook the foundation of America that will never be forgotten for years and years to come. My name is Joyce Norman I was a military brat that was born and raised in the small town of Fayetteville, North Carolina along with one brother and four sisters. To show a little humor, this is another place like Texas that has bipolar weather from sunny skies with a hint of rain to a giant blizzard that’ll give you a death of pneumonia. Throughout, the years of my life as an African American we heard songs of change, we were insured and inspired in church that change would come some way or another either in the community or in our nation. As the world continued to change I

With my recent launch of the Black Men Lead Initiative, it may easy for some to postulate that I have it all together as a black man. It might be part of a natural and logical progression to establish the belief that I have excelled in the area of being a strong, engaged and infallible black man. However, your speculations and assumptions would be inaccurate. Although I consider myself to be the quintessential black man, I am far from perfect. I have failed on many occasions, by the world’s standard of failure.

“I'm stuck between who I am, who I want to be, and who I should be.” - Unknown

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,

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

These moments didn’t just remind me what checking off the Caucasian box for all these years meant, but they also made me wonder why progress has not been made in a country that promises greatness.

I am jaded. I feel empty on the inside. It’s difficult to even describe my feelings at the moment, especially after the recent events. As I wear this skin, fear and sorrow leaks from the depths of my soul. I feel numb. African American’s are persecuted and mistreated, and I am just supposed to take it? Yes, I am supposed to take it, or become another hashtag. This time, it will say #ANOTHERANGRYBLACKwoman. At work, I hear people talking about the recent homicides of black men, and it angers me. I sometimes wonder if I should speak up about the situations, or justify the actions of the police along with the white men, as the sip their coffee in the morning.

I’m a black male so I must be dumb, violent, and ghetto. My girlfriend is from Ecuador, so she can’t speak English. My mom is from the south of the Mason-Dixon line, so her husband must be her cousin. I was raised in Newark, NJ that must mean I’m a black male who can’t read or selling narcotics on the street corner. I’ve been stereotyped for my whole life. Ever since I came out the womb, I have been captivated in stereotype wheel and I haven’t been able to escape. I despise the fact that I get judged based on what’s the color of my skin, where I was born, what music I listen to, and also what things I like to do. Stereotypes is the biggest weight minorities have to fight against me.There are some groups

I captured this adult great black wasp as it was landing on a rattlesnake master flower. Perhaps, it was in the process of getting nectar from the flower but as I walked closer and snapped the picture it flew away. The entire color of the insect is black, and its wings as Frisch (1938) said are dark with bluish or violet reflection. It is a hymenoptera so the insect underwent complete metamorphosis. The larvae form and the adult form do not share the same source of diet. The adult food is usually nectar or pollen, and the larvae food is commonly katydid hence that is why their other common name is also Katydid Hunter (Coin, 2004). The larvae of the great black wasp wait for their meal of katydid when the adult brings to their nest. The adults