Personal Narrative: The First Race Of The Race

Having the best two days of my life. Hanging out, watching horrifying movies, and spending time with some teammates before one of the biggest cross country races that exist tomorrow morning. Hundreds of people were going to attend this event to cheer on a family member. Even though this was three years ago and I came just to support some of Forest Park cross country runners.

Race has shaped our world greatly, as we have slowly learned that just because someone’s skin is darker does not mean they are any less of a person. For example, Rosa Parks was one of the first black people to stand up for themselves. Black people were told to sit at the back of the bus but Rosa did not follow these rules. She was asked to move but she did not give up her seat, that was closer to the front. She taught us that just because she is black does not mean she deserves less respect. Another example is, Hate Crimes.in 1989 a law was passed that added the black community to hate crimes, which means that if someone hurt them because of the colour of their skin there will be severe consequences. This was passed to show that the government

In 2025, I will be twenty-nine years old and hopefully married. I will be married to my significant other of ten years Earnest Palmer III, who is a dentist. I would have been recently graduating with a bachelor’s in Culinary Arts and trying to plan to open my own restaurant, BubbaD’s Eateries. Knowing my big headed husband of mine, I probably had a baby then and trying to have another baby. Hopefully, by then Earnest will get rid of the idea naming our son, King. We will be living in the suburbs near New York City but working in the city. Being a woman with great memory, I probably wrote a memoir about my crazy life and trying to sell it to a publisher. If none of the publishers wants to publish my memoir, I will probably sell it the Lifetime

I woke up thinking this is the day, the day that I would have to try my best. On October 21, 2017 in Rapid City, South Dakota the day of my biggest cross-country race had come. It was state. I felt very thrilled and nervous that the day had come.

My first recollection of race was daycare. I remember seeing many different skin and eye colors but didn’t understand how they were so much more different than me. I recall asking my mother why I didn’t have green eyes and how my skin color was different. She explained everyone is made differently that’s what makes them unique. My first recollection of racism was in third grade. The nurse came to the classroom to check the classroom for lice. Myself and a few other classmates weren’t checked properly because she didn’t want to touch our hair. Instead of bringing us out individually she called us by a group which made me feel different. Also, I was told it’s impossible to get lice because of the hair products used.

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

I have been running distance for past few years and I have learned a lot because of it. These thing include many life skills that will forever stick with me throughout my life. But there is one skill that I learned from my first race and is the far most meaningful and important skill that I ever learned from running.

Born in a small village called Manchester in the country area of Guyana. As the evenings grew dark I would sit in my father’s lap as he retold the history of tense racially aligned political issues between two electoral parties in my country. I never understood what he was talking about, despite his definition of the words and vivid storytelling. Without a doubt, he was conscious of the lack of interest I had in his stories, but would often continue, which was evidently forgotten the next day since I was only 6 years old. At that age often times the stories our parents tell us do not apply to us. However, at the age of 9, I had my very first experience of racism and learned my ethnic identity.

While completing my handout I realized things about myself that I never really thought about. First, I can say that it was very easy to determine the first question. As I know that I am Caucasian. However, I realized that it may not be so easy for my daughter. This is due to the fact her father is multiracial to begin with so I don’t know what racial group she would like to place herself in. Furthermore, one could see that for many Americans that are of a multiracial decent could be confused having to select one particular race or being subjected to writing in their own response.

The weekend of August 15, 2015 was life changing. I was very excited to start my sophomore year and Cross Country season because our team had just ended an amazing year, making it to State. This weekend was the last one before my sister left for her Freshman year of college. It was also my family’s last camping trip of the season. We picked a campground that was close by because I had practice on Saturday morning that I refused to miss.

Winded, with my legs forfeiting into a stagger, a bilious feeling began to build in my gut as the stark reality of losing began to sink in. I had fallen behind. My window of opportunity was closing by the meter, and my dream to qualify and finish on the podium, becoming more distant, as I watched the other runners make strides towards the finish line. Losing focus had led me to this moment where I was running someone else’s race in which, I have found myself completely OUT of the race.

My huge failure was like the recapitulation of the experience of the race: I had to grow foul with knowledge, realize the futility of everything, smash everything, grow desperate, then humble, then sponge myself off the slate, as it were, in order to recover my authenticity. I had to arrive at the brink and then take a leap in the

It was a blistering summer night at the Terre Haute Motor Speedway. The air was filled with cheering from the stands, smell of over sprayed WD-40 and the excited introductions of every race car driver's name screamed over the loud speaker. Modified, Super Modified, Midgets and Sprint cars were being pulled out of their trailers; gears and tires lay scattered across the dirt near the cars jacks like a weird game of operation ready to be played. Everything seemed to be going the way it always had before every race I'd driven, everything but the unexplainable doomed feeling I had in my gut that told me something was wrong, that this could very well be my last race.

I was only five years old when I first moved to to the small town of Latham (back when it was still small). As I grew up, the community grew with me, and we both embraced more and more cultures, lifestyles, and religions, evolving to have a special affinity for diversity.

As the gun goes off, I almost simultaneously burst out of the running blocks, exploding into a sprint. My adrenaline is pumping as I come up close onto another girl in my race. It was overwhelming just being at the state track meet, let alone running in the 4 by 100 relay. My speed picks up as the distance to the next person in my relay grows less and less. As I get closer to Brianna, I realize that our race isn’t going to go exactly as we had planned. Actually, our race was going to go differently than anyone had expected, and definitely not in a good way.