Personal Narrative: The French Whore Who Changed My Life

Most of us in the family have different ways of talking to others. Kwabe, the youngest out of 8, is annoying but sometimes gets his points across. The second youngest is serena, around people she doesn’t really know or wants to be mean to, she puts on a baby voice, around people she doesn’t like she talks with a deep voice. At home she is just irritating, and she is always sassy. Oyema and I are pretty much the same, we don’t want to talk at all, well at school. It’s like right after we scramble outside of school we just talk and talk and talk. Sharese and Tiera, two of our older sisters, they are raggedy smart alecks, especially sharese. Tiera is just plane weird, but both of them curse so much it’s amazing how many curse

“Trust me, Everleigh, I'm not an enemy you want either. If you're smart you'll drop this; if you're not this will be a very interesting year.” I turned on my heel and walked away from her. Zarra stopped me before I could take a step onto the lunchroom floor.

On the night of December 19th, 2003, a baby is born. Her mom’s a social worker, her dad’s a nephrologist, and she has one older sister. Her name is Sophia Galoustian, although later she will wish to be called Sophie. After two years of living in Maine, the family moves to California, where Sophie will grow up.I am Sophia Galoustian, and this is part of who I am.

This year, I have three superb friends. They inspire me to do by best at just about everything. Audrey is inspiring when it comes to Cross Country, something she’s not the best at. Katie motivating when it comes to my writing, and C.j. encourages me to do my best, and always learn more.

I am 1/128th Cherokee I have my CDBI card and receive all my native benefits. I discovered that I also have French in my blood line. So I call myself a French Indian. I am not sure where my family came from I was unable to locate some of the family history, but I am not giving up on tracing my family tree. I know that I have Choctaw blood line as well, my mother and I are tracing that back as well. All of my Indian blood line comes from my mother’s side of the family. I am not sure what blood line my father has, I just haven’t had the desire to look that side of my family up and do the

We flew down the bumpy trails with dust in our face. Maria took Rachel and I four-wheeling with some friends. It was two o’clock in the morning and my mom didn't know where we were. Maria Tormanen is my older sister. Maria has a positive influence on me because she is always pushing me out of my comfort zone. She supports me in what i do and she goes after her dreams, I admire that.

I never thought I would be labeled an outsider, a misfit even. As I trudged my way through the halls of my small town high school, I would endure the gazing pairs of eyes, that belonged to my peers, followed by whispering and often times some laughter. I always used zone out during those repetitive speeches and commercials about the effects of gossiping and rumors; never did I imagine that one day I would be on the receiving end of of the everyday potshot. Growing up I was always the center of attention, the one everyone yearned to be friends with, never was I the antisocial child in the corner with nowhere to turn… not until high school. They say high school changes you. They say high school accounts for some of the greatest years of

Ever since I was little, I felt like an outsider. I would like them but not so typical boy things and be more interested in doing my mom’s hair or play in her make up. At that age, I did not know what it was and kids would not understand it either. When I was in the sixth grade I realized what it was, what made me feel different from everyone else. That is when I accepted the fact I was gay and came out to my parents. In addition, when I came out I got pushed into being outsider, not really knowing where I belong. Most of the kids that age did not know how to deal with something different so it was hard for me to find somewhere to go. I was encompassed in between two groups, the boys and the girls. I adore doing things typically a girl to do

Mrs. Sofia is a 46-year-old Hispanic female. Mrs. Sofia moved to the United States six months ago from the Dominican Republic. She moved with her family to Connecticut to better their lives and for greater job opportunities. Mrs. Sofia works at the local high school as a housekeeper. Mrs. Sofia is happily married with two daughters, one son, and she lives with her parents. Mrs. Sofia is very close with her family. Mrs. Sofia stated, “My family is the biggest part of my life and support system”. Mrs. Sofia’s primary language is Spanish, but can speak some English. Mrs. Sofia and her family believe in folk remedies in times of illness. In time of sickness, she uses herbs to help cure the illness. Since Mrs. Sofia is a immigrant from the Dominican Republic she was not able to receive the same type of health care that a typical American would have.

When I was in my sophomore year of high school, I had a music teacher named Ms. Valentine who taught vocal and piano classes. Ms. Valentine was known as the “mean dad” of the vocal department, because she oddly reminded everyone of a dad instead of a mother, I know it’s weird. She never took the phrase I can’t from a student, and she would never put up with anyone’s bullshit. She believed there was no such thing as “I can’t”. I had the pleasure of having Ms. Valentine as my choir director, sadly. Ms. Valentine was known for assigning students to critique boring plays and concerts.

You are walking down a crowded street. You have had an enjoyable evening doing whatever it is you do for entertainment. Suddenly, you hear what sounds like gunshots. Instantly, the mob of people around you begins to run in all directions. You of course, not wanting to be left out in the open, follow the nearest terrified group. You see a squad of police officers coming toward you. Thankful for their protective presence, you smile inwardly and silently thank them for their service. That is, until one cop points directly at you and runs in your direction. Stunned by his approach, you mutely obey as the officer you so highly praised moments before pushes you to the ground, holds a gun to your head, and places too-tight handcuffs onto your wrists.

I remember the night I was taken from the home I had lived in for nine years. I’ll never be able to forget that night no matter how hard I try.I lived alone with only Daddy to take care of me. I don’t Think Daddy ever really liked me. I know that he had always wanted a boy. He would never have the chance to have one because two years later mama died from small pox. After that daddy would barely get out of bed, and when he did he would go down to the local saloon and buy a bottle of rum and sit on the curb and murmur to himself as he drank the bottle down.I wouldn’t of survived if I hadn’t meet Dame Kleur, african for color lady. People called her this because of the colorful beads she always wore around her neck. I met her one day when

Throughout my life there have been few people that have made an impact in my life, but the one that has made the greatest influence in me is my older and only sister, Diana Cienfuegos. Although we often argue, I know I was very fortunate to have someone who guided me through the right path in life. My sister has been my role model as a student, given me strength when I need it, and helped me in whatever she could to make me happy.

September 9, 2015, a baby is born. With black hair, brown eyes, and the face of an angle, she was wrapped in a two blankets and pajamas. The name on the certificate, Elizabeth, and she is born 5 inches tall, weighs 6 ounces, and has a perfectly round head, she looks like a turtle as she stretches her neck. We call her our little lizard, but to be honest she looks more like turtle than a lizard any day. The hospital I go to, to see little lizard, smells like soap and hand sanitizer, it brings back memories of a moment in time 2 years ago when I walked down the same hospital corridors to see my area 51 baby, Evelynne. As I walk down the same hallway to the same room where I first saw my Evelynne I am reminded of a responsibility, a responsibility

On September 8th, 1961, Immacula Frederic was born in Leogane, Haiti. Her name derives from the word “Immaculate.” Shortly after her birthday in 1984, she moved to the United States, with hopes of living a better life. Now you may wonder, “Who is Immacula and why is she so important?”