Personal Narrative: The Truth Behind The Bar

Our individual identity is greatly constructed by how others perceive us. In the poem, "Response to Executive Order 9066" written by Dwight Okita is about how american identity has more to do with how you experience culture than with where your family came from. In the story "Mericans" written by Sandra Cisnero's is about the narrators american identity contrasts with the awful grandmothers strong mexican roots but the americans judge the narrators based on her looks. Though the speakers in Okita's poem and Cisnero's short story have strong roots in foreign cultures, both of them feel more connected to their American identities.

I am sitting on the first booth table against the wall by the main entrance at Stella’s in Grand Rapids, Michigan. The smell of alcohol and sweat filled my nostrils as I breathe in the stuffy air. All around me are young people who are laughing a little too loudly, flirting with strangers, talking with friends, and playing video games while watching cartoons that are being played all around the bar. There are many people in this bar on a Saturday night at 11:35 pm. There are very little sitting and people coming in and out of various groups of people. Some of the people are losing their balance and attach to a friend or stranger to help them walk in a straight line. The women’s bathroom is packed with women and it is very little to none in

Ever since i was a kid, my parents always told me to never steal anything and never do any piracy. That is one thing that I still and always will follow my entire life. When I was a kid, I stole a candy bar and my parents caught me. I got in big trouble. I had to My day was as normal as ever, after work I came home around 7 p.m. and i'm going to the bar now. I went to “Kevin’s Bar’ and bought myself a $20 drink. I had only $30 left before i was out of money. All the girls saw me buy that expensive drink for myself, seeing that I was at self-pity and they all repelled away from me. Those $30 extra dollars that I had was gone in 10 minutes of self-pity. I was starting to get really drowsy here and there being at the bar for hours and hours. I eventually approached the girls at the V.I.P. area, but they all ignored me and was being dragged away.I got drowsy again. The last thing I heard was screaming and arguing from the girls before the door closed . Something came into my hands before I was dragged away, but i don’t know what it is, anyway I didn't care as long as i got home. I called my wife to bring me home who was later that

After checking every photo taken during the investigation, the Deputy District Attorney, Michelle Trego asked the detectives to interview the witnesses again. “We want to make certain she pays for this crime,” Michelle said riding up in the elevator with Detective Wallace.

I interviewed a woman that works with my mother and have known for several years now. She had been summoned and questioned by attorneys six times. She was only selected three of the six times to serve on the jury. Her first thought was “oh crap.” Although it may not be seen as a very nice response, but it is a very natural human response and she is not the only one who has reacted in that way. She was very nervous receiving the summons; it was something new and practically unknown to her. Some of the questions she was asked were if she owns a gun, if she has a gun in the house, about her education, and mostly just general questions. There is one question that stood out from the others though. Once when being asked by an attorney, she

We had this playset that had a bar on the left side to do flips on. On the other side there was a climbing rope, and in the front there were two swings. My brother and I came up with a game to see who could get over the bar fastest by doing a flip. So the first few times I did it I was fine, I grabbed the bar put my stomach on it and spun down. My brother and I took turns and on my 3rd turn I must not have done it correctly, but either way I hit my head on it right below my eyebrow. I fell on the ground and held my hand to my eye, by then I started crying because of shock. Surprisingly it didn’t hurt that bad, but it was just throbbing. My brother came over and told me to move my hand so he could look at it when I did he looked worried, he told me that we had to go in the house right away. I had blood all over the palm of my hand and on the right side of my face. He helped me up and walked there with me to the house.

We figured out it was dad when we went to get him and he was climbing into his window.

We’ve all heard the saying: keeping a positive attitude can mean the difference between success or failure. Fittingly, going through the police academy put this saying to the test! I’m not sure what was harder, going through the police academy or raising a child as a single mother. To be fair, the two are completely different and some might say there’s no comparison. But, as I sit here, memories from that journey come flooding back and I can not think of a similar or equal comparison that captures my struggles I had in the academy the way motherhood does so well. For me, the police academy was an arduous journey of blood, sweat and many tears.

Prayer in some schools may or may not be allowed for various reasons depending on where you are. For example, school-sponsored prayer is allowed in some parts of Europe, but not in the schools in the United States, Canada, Turkey or France, Turkey, and France are strong secular states. Some states do allow prayer, but it must be done privately while some prayer is declared by the state. However, one can pray in the schools in the United States, but not openly in state-run or public schools and as long as the prayer is not disruptive to those around the student; prayer is permitted as a private and personal choice.

I believe that I deserve the MUSIC scholarship because I value my education, I am a high performing student, and I am a dedicated worker.

Bars all I see all day is bars, I can't stand them no more. I look outside and see the sunshine and children playing, I hate being in this little concrete room waiting for me to be dead. I'm going to escape this joint. My wife has given me a wooden gun yesterday, i'm going to break out of this joint tomorrow. As I woke up early this morning felt like a new man knowing that today will be my last day here. As I waited for the guard to come to me and cheek if I did not escape for some odd reason he was being slow like he knew something was going to happen. As I was waiting for him I felt my heart starting to pump out of my chest. Then I heard thumping from boots I started to relax myself by saying, This is what you've been waiting for. He walked

February 4, 2007 was a day of celebration for my whole family. That day my family gathered around in the living room and cheered on the Colts to victory in the Super Bowl. This day was the anticipated highpoint of my school conversations for the past week. My dad was in his leather chair drinking his favorite Raspberry Snapple Tea. My mom, siblings and I were crowded around on leather couches in our living room. We were all close in age. I was ten years old in fourth grade, my sister was eleven in fifth grade, and my brother was thirteen in sixth grade. I didn’t understand football that much as a fourth grader, but I always looked forward to the Super Bowl commercials. I still remember one of the commercials that affected me the most. In the

His curly hair, his beautiful smile, and his charm were gone. Only his cold, lifeless body was left with a bullet hole in his

It's late July, and it's hotter than hell in Austin, but I'm okay. I'm sitting in a back booth in a cave of a bar on South Congress, staying AC cool. I've never been here before, but I feel right at home, absorbing the darkness and quiet jazz, and inhaling that beer-and-bourbon smell you only find in really good, really old dives. The SoCo hipsters won't come near the joint, because they can't get an Appletini. And I don't think this bar would work at all in California. It's not a place for white wine pansies. Nary a corkscrew to be found. Hell, it's never seen a bottle that needed one. Good beer, good vodka, and about 83 different kinds of Bourbon, Scotch and tequila. Brodie said to meet him here. I admit he has good taste in bars. He must have hung out at one like this back in Glasgow.

After everything that has happened, it was finally over. The sky was dark with rain and cracked with lightning and thunder, bodies littered the ground turning it red with blood. On this battlefield laid Zya Kage, the leader of the rebellion against the king of her homeland. The war raged on for hours, maybe even a day, Zya couldn’t remember. The wound on Zya’s stomach bled and soaked the ground below her with blood, her vision began to fade in and out , she could hear the sounds of yelling and screaming soon began to dissipate from her hearing. Then, as soon as she closed her eyes and let the darkness along with the pain consume her. She heard someone yelling, but it was a lot closer now. She felt hands pressing against her wound, she could see a faint silhouette kneeling beside her, but before she could see who it was. She felt numb and her vision went dark.