Personal Narrative: The New America

That day I walked back home from primary school is one I would never consign to oblivion (“Consign to Oblivion” is an exceptional song I would recommend). We were laughing and frolicking in painstakingly tailored school-clothes as we carried our backpacks and lunch-boxes on the dirt road. It was unbeknown to me that I would no longer see my dear friends again. As I took off my shoes and entered the dwelling, I saw my mom`s troubled face and immediately realized the severity of the situation. It took mere minutes for my parents to elucidate this predicament and devastate my six-year-old world. America? Why?

Anyone who has the desire to live in the Unites States of America knows that it is the greatest nation among all nations. People either have little knowledge of other countries to believe this general notion or have truly seen and been informed of the opportunal prosperity that exists in the spirit of America. The American Dream is the idea that sets the minds of people determined to be part of a great nation because everyone has the equal opportunity to become successful and prosperous, if you work hard enough to achieve it. The American Dream is the reason why so many people come to the United States in search for better economic and liberty opportunities. What causes frustration and discouragement to enter this nation is the fact that the

Grand cars drive down our street. Radios are now practically in every home and play news and stories for families to listen to. Homes are stocked with new appliances, the latest technologies. Some may say that our great country has reached a golden age of prosperity and wealth. However, take a look from a different perspective, and you’ll see that this isn’t the case. America is not the land of the free. Technology may have advanced, but socially, we’ve remained stagnant. Some of our citizens are still shackled by the ties of racial and sexual inequality, and freedom is something they long desperately to grasp.

On my first day of pre-kindergarten, I entered the classroom slowly placing one foot onto the ground after another gripping onto my Strawberry Shortcake backpack tightly seeking protection. I arrived at the classroom door and noticed something. The children frolicking around the room playing tag were different. The other children had skin the color of snow and chocolate, while mine resembled that of caramel. Of course, I had encountered those of other races or ethnicities, however it was overwhelming and quite sudden for me, for some reason. Perhaps I had expected all the other children to look similar to me. I had not realized at the time that my town had had very few Indians at the time, and had a white and black majority. I had been quite

Walking into the coffee shop where everyone else , including me now, confronts people in their lives and continues to discuss important topics. The decorations around me are plain and simplistic, nothing special about this place whatsoever. I wait patiently for my invite to show, mentally preparing myself for the conversation that I want to have so desperately. I think of the topics I want to bring up and the ones I want to focus on more than others. Nervously, I continue to wait and talk myself out of thinking that they wouldn’t show at all. A few minutes filled with deep breaths later, finally they’re here. I walk over to the table we agreed to meet at, and sat politely before greeting them and waiting for a response. I cleared my throat and looked at my lap, trying to refrain from saying anything I’d regret. Taking a deep breath, I tried to remain professional while addressing the topic. Finally, my attention was brought to the person seated in front of me, to the world in front of me. With all the courage I could muster I stared dead into its

the biggest struggle for Americans these days seems to stem from poverty, drugs, broken homes, rasicism/discrimination and so on. how lucky i am that i was raised in a loving, upper-middle class familyi’ve never had many friends. throughout elementary school, i’d spend every recess on the swingset because i didn’t want teachers seeing me wander alone and then make others kids play with me. their pity made me more uncomfortable than being alone. as time went on, things seemed to only get worse. middle school was horrible. i would come home everyday and just try not to cry. i’d never felt so alone in my life.

The United States is 241 years old. There have been many changes to the country. Many of those changes have been in the last 100 years. My generation is lucky to have the freedom to do what we want. Being born in 2005, I am lucky to have opportunities other generation did not have.

i live in central oregon. I'm fifteen years old, and go to high school at Ridgeview high school.I live in a three bedroom sized duplex. My mom gets decent pay, but we struggle towards the end of the month. My life and my family reminds me of what every average family is like in America nowadays. It’s beginning to become our culture. actually i take that back my family actually isn't very average and far from the normal American family. i say that because i have parents that have had very rough lives. Me, my two older brothers, and little sister have also had quite rough life's not going into details or anything like that. My parents

“Trust me. You can do it,” my coach shouted when I fell down from my horse. I was at camp for the summer and wanted to learn to ride but I could not manage to control the horse. After several falls, I had all but given up and was afraid to mount the horse again. But my coach just kept pushing me. By the end of the summer and after a lot of practice and setbacks, I not only got over my fear of riding but also learned to control the horse and have a smooth, consistent ride. I often thought about my experience with the horse that summer when I was sitting for USMLE exams. My USMLE Step 1 and 2 exams were not as good as I hoped and it began a distressing time of self-doubt. I was forced to think hard about my childhood dream to pursue medicine

Being born in 1997, I am one of the first of this generation to reach adulthood. As the last of the millennials finish graduating college, Generation Z, also known as generation or iGen, are rapidly growing up. Not much is known about this generation, but we do know a few things and can predict the rest. As Millennials are making headline as America’s worst generation, iGen is working behind the scenes to change America for the better.

Both my mother and father are motivational forces that have driven me to achieve all that I can. My father, who never finished high school, traveled thousands of miles with my mother away from their rural villages in India to come to America, the fabled land of opportunity. This kind of upbringing has motivated me to make the best of the monetary situation that my parents never had.

I have realized that there is much more precious to life than wealth, status, property, and materialistic things. For me, the American Dream is not just having the strongest economic standing, wealth, or fame, but attaining happiness through everything and moment in my life and making a difference. My American dream is being able to graduate from high school and attend college because I would like to have the opportunity to directly help those who are less fortunate than me and make them happier. I feel that there is no greater joy than feeling that I was able to help an individual in their time of physical or emotional need. My American Dream is being able to walk into a home with a happy family and know that my presence is welcomed and is

What is common between San Francisco, New York, Chicago, Stockholm, Johannesburg, Pune, London, Los Angeles and Denver? These are the places my father worked as an Oracle consulting expert therefore I would say International experience at an early age makes me unique. Adjusting to an international college campus culture would be straightforward for me due to my extensive travel in the US, Europe and Asia.

The across Atlantic, in the northern part of Ethiopia, I was born in a small rural village called Wejo, which is a very small population, with strong social fabric: strict traditional bond, but I still had the memory when the winter is comes. Suddenly the savanna land turn to a tropical garden, the attic change to the rain forest, the river flooded into gorge, the big mountain at back of the house covered with foggy weather, the cattle grazing in the field, the farm giving its reward and everyone in the village delight because of the rain that the winter brings. For me when winter comes one thing always remember is my father graceful eyes. Winter always

In the United States we can be so self-absorbed and have no regard for other people and their feelings and well-being, it is a distinguishable norm for American society at this point. We always ask ourselves “What do I want?” or “What can I gain from this?”, but we never ask ourselves “What do they want?” or “What can they gain from this?” This is where Japan separates itself from the United States. The people in Japan hold such high esteem for everyone they know and meet, while we can hardly treat the person next to us with even the smallest amount of admiration and generosity.