Personal Narrative: The Identity Of Women

Growing up in America with Taiwanese-American parents has shaped my life and my personality. In Georgia there are little to no areas with Taiwanese influences and culture. Therefore when we were younger, my sister and I went to school together in an area where there weren’t many Asian families residing.

Strolling into my last hour of the day like any other, only to find that there was a substitute, another day of busy work instead of reviewing for the test. I sat in my assigned seat in the back of the class as usual, while the sub introduced himself.

My identity is very meaningful to me. I identify as a pansexual male, meaning I am attracted to people of all genders and I am female-to-male transgender. I have been attracted to people of all genders throughout my life so when I discovered that there were other people that were like this, I was not surprised. Ever since I could remember, I have felt that I was a boy on the inside. Back in December 2014,I discover what being transgender is and I began to question my gender identity. I started to identifying as a male. With no parental support, I cut my hair and began to bind my chest.

Two years ago our family was changed forever when the women who helped us thrive passed away. She inspired me in ways that no other person ever could. Only a month of summer had gone by and it was already the most inferior one i've ever experienced. The day my great grandma died, I had just gotten back from Billings after my grandma Barb had emergency surgery. We got back and got the call that she only had moments to live. As I was listening to my aunt on the other line, I felt like I couldn't breath. Cancer had taken over her body and it was too much for her to bare. Considering, I lived out of town, she died before we arrived there. Although her death was tragic, she was a hero who died in the end just like Beowulf. Two years ago, my hero died and I will forever respect her for saving our family, always being there for us, and for living the life she dreamed of.

The feminist movement has had a resurgence of enthusiasm in the past couple of years, and many people are itching to either hop onto that train, or attempt to stop it at any and all costs. I would consider myself to be a generally well-informed passenger. However, I am a firm believer that knowledge is power, and I think any opportunity to become more educated on a topic is an opportunity to further empower oneself. As a young woman growing up in this new age of intersectional feminism, I am always looking for more ways to become more informed.

Writing for the Huffington Post, Temimah Zucker presents her opinion on society’s expectation for women in America through different forms of communication and advertisement. Zucker’s article is based off of what you as a woman, think of yourself, versus what society thinks of you. Zucker believes that society’s opinions and beliefs will constantly change through the generations, but your thoughts about your own beauty will not become gray to you; “Beauty is molded by society -- by the advertising, fashion, and cosmetic industries. We live in a society of billboards and ads, Photoshop, and Botox. We are trained to believe that size two is perfect, while most healthy women in America fit into a size 12.” (1)

It is those unrealistic images that we see in the media that contribute to women’s desire to be skinny and perfectly toned, so, like the conditioned robots we are, we: perform, please, and perfect – to eventually develop a self-destructive sense of self. Altered images and the generalizations of those images in the media are, without doubt, becoming great contributors to lowering self-esteem in people

I have never asked for a pity judgement amongst or based upon my past. Every challenge I have faced in my lifetime has been for a reason, a reason I might not know yet. At the age of 7 I was forced to take on life changing incidents. I had my childhood stripped from me and little did I know would later have a positive outcome for many reasons. 1 in every 6 American women experience attempted or completed rape in her lifetime, and sadly I was one of these statistics. In 1986, a research was done concluding 64% of women who reported rape by a family member, younger than the age of 14. Many of these girls, including myself, blame themselves for the crime that was inflicted upon them. Although I had many things distracting me in life, I never

Last week I had the opportunity to speak with a girl who I worked with a couple times last summer. She is from Tajikistan, which is located in Central Asia. She is identified as Persian and speaks Russian. She left her country and came to the U.S on a work visa five years ago. Her story is very moving and deeply touches my heart.

They called me an apple. Since I was supposedly red on the outside, but white on the inside, I was automatically a walking bullseye. Being one of the many oppressed Aboriginals, I understand their need to hurt someone else in an effort to release some of their internal pain. I understand why so many give up or turn into raging alcoholics in an effort to numb their pain. Coming from a reservation, my greatest challenge was proving to everyone that all the stereotypes about my people were fallacious. However, the need for a government and an education system that won’t keep on failing us repeatedly is imperative. The only way that I can make my voice heard is to break these stereotypes and to reach a higher education; hence my application for

What do you want me to say? (Throws hands up in the air) That I am so excited to be moving to another foster home? That my parents didn’t want me to begin with in the first place? How can “parents” do that to someone? To be excited to be treated the same as I have been in every other home before? No. These people are going to be just like every other set of parents that I’ve always had, not excepting and judgmental. They will be excited at first to meet me, get to know me, and then a few years down the road, they will say that they can’t connect with me, and can’t do this anymore. If you’re wondering if I care, I don’t and I am not excited. (She turns her body to look at Mike) But you know what? All of this won’t even matter in a couple years, I’m going to be eighteen in a few days, I am not a baby

Culture and identity are inextricably linked concepts. Identity is formed by your culture and in turn your identity shapes the respective cultures of the groups you identify with. I belong to many different cultural groups, and my identity is a complex web of competing and conflicting beliefs, experiences, and characteristics. My identity is not only complex, but also dynamic, as the experiences I have change who I am.

50 minutes had passed since Bailey Madison James whom some called Bai and others called BJ. Though when they called her BJ that just pissed her off to the point of no return. Bailey thought it was funny when she'd explode and the looks on people's faces made her day sometime. She just couldn't get enough of it. "I love you." Bailey typed into her phone sending a text message to Calahan not knowing if he was going to get it or not. Even if they fought a lot she always made sure that he knew she loved him. Even if it was a simple text message before bed, a note on his pillow, a note on his plate when he'd come home late. It was just her little way of trying to make things better between them. She hated the fact that all they did was fight including

A famous actor once stated “But I learned that there’s a certain character that can be built from embarrassing yourself endlessly. If you can sit happy with embarrassment, there's not much else that can really get to ya.” However, I did not quite agree with the man when I was embarrassed directly in front of my friends and adults. That day I will never forget, I had made the biggest fool out of myself, and I had just given proof to the stories about women being terrible drivers.

My Identity connects to my culture because it describes the way I look and the point of view I have on certain topics. My culture is the Native American tribe, Wampanoag and I am also Mexican. I have some facial features and body structures from both sides of the family like: most of my family has brown or black hair, we are taller than the average human, and our faces have an oval shape. Some topics that my family has taught me from both sides of the family is, family always sticks together and always comes first, and If you see bad things going on in the world, always try to help and do whats right. From my Dad’s side of the family, I learned tons about survival skills and on my Mom’s side I learned a lot about traditions. An example from