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Personal Narrative: The Girl And It Girl

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If someone told me when I was a little girl that I would help change America, I would have never believed them. I mean, I was 10 years old then. I had long brown hair and wore dresses down to my ankles. I stayed at home all day with Mama, baking and watching my siblings. I did not have an idol, someone to look up to. Well, not until I met a flapper.
“Look, look! There she is, Clara Bow,” Grace cried.
We were standing outside the Cotton Club, a speakeasy on 142nd Street. Me, Grace, and Lucy had finished our paper route early and wanted to see what all the racket was. We pushed through the small crowd and up to the window, so close our breath fogged up the glass. Staring in awe, we locked our eyes against the “It Girl.” We couldn’t imagine that standing inside the nightclub was Clara Bow.
“Wow, Rose, I can’t even believe it!” Grace continued. I was the one who convinced Grace and Lucy to turn and see what was going on.
Clara Bow turned to the window that we had our faces pressed against. Looking at her for
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“Dad, Mom. I-I know you are mad at me. You s-should be. But dad, mom, especially you mom,” my voice quickened, “you have to realize that America is changing and new traditions are forming. I want to be a part of that. So p-please let me continue doing what I love. I know you want me to live in the Victorian Age, but that is not now. Now, it’s the age of the Flaming Youth.”
My parents sighed and stared at each other. I grimaced, hoping my little speech would convince them. Thankfully, after a long conversation, my parents allowed me to continue doing what I want. Thanks to that, I was standing in the middle of a crowd, bobbing my hair, and dancing the charleston. I continued having a rebellious attitude towards old traditions and I was happy I had an idol to look up to and that my parents were there to support me along the
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