Personal Narrative: Whole Nature Vs. Nurture

Everybody has different opinions on the Nature vs Nurture term. Some say we are who we are based on who we surround ourselves with, and others say we are who we are from birth. I know there are many different theories for both sides and they make sense scientifically but, I'm going to explain I am who I am from social construction to myself and how I make choices from my own beliefs.

Over my years of school, one big influence on me has always been sports. Ever since a young age, I have always enjoyed playing and watching sports. In my four years in high school, I have fell in love with the sport of lacrosse.

I woke up and took one bite out of my pop tart but that one bite was all I could eat. My legs were shaking, and my heart was pounding. My dad told me, “It is a true honor to even make it this far so go out there and have some fun.” Once I heard this statement, I knew I was ready to go. I arrived at school and boarded the bus. The car ride was an hour and fifteen minutes of hearing the squeaking of the wheel on the bus. My teammates were getting their heads ready for the big game.

When I was extended seven feet above the ground, I knew we had succeeded. My two bases were in front of me and my backspot was behind me. I heard the familiar counts of my backspot “one, two, three, four”, I bounced and pushed myself up into my bases waiting hands, “five, six, seven, eight”, I straightened as my bases lifted me up to chest level. I locked my knees and stayed tight. I put on a smile and looked ahead. I felt my backspot release her hold on my ankles. I heard her voice once again, “extension, one, two, three, four”, I brought my hands down to my sides and focused on staying tight as I slowly rose, “five, six, seven, eight. I was all the way up. Then a few moments later I heard the counts as they brought me to chest level then back down to the ground. We had done it, we had hit the stunt and did an extension.

When I was young my Dad would always remind me of how important these years as a kid are. He would always say watch how you act as a kid, for it will set the stage for the rest of your life. So many people I know ruined their lives when they were kids. This small, yet so important statement runs through my mind everyday. I love how everyone says they don’t care what people think of them, but I wish they knew how important it is to have a good image. I am not perfect, but I would like to be close as possible. But as Salvador Dali said “Have no fear of perfection, you’ll never reach it. “ The problem I see is everyone wanting to be someone that they are not. Sure, we all have our idols that we look

I quickly swallowed my homemade authentic Indian food leftovers and gulped down my chocolate milk. Looking down at my watch that read 11:28am, I knew that I only had two minutes until my most favorite part of the day: recess. This particular day in 5th grade, I had run a lap around the playground before getting the rest of recess to myself. As I started walking for my warmup, another student ran up and said, “My parents said that your people caused 9/11.” Completely caught off guard, I held back the tears in my eyes and tried to shake off his comment. I had never encountered something like this.

I have had many forces and experiences that have shaped me. They have not only shape who I have become, but who I am going to become. Throughout my life I have made a bunch of dumb decisions, mistakes, or things that just happen to me. Everything, in one way or another will take part in what happens in our lives. Whether I’m playing baseball, riding dirt bikes, or just messing around at home, it will all play into who we will become.

What makes up our identity?This question has been asked for a really long time that some have attempted to answer but often look at the wrong things that make up our identity.Some people have thought that what makes up our identity are the different important times in our life.Though what really makes up our identity are the 7 categories of otherness.The 7 categories of otherness are race, sexual orientation, age, religion, able- bodied, gender and finally socio-economic.

Some people are born with talents, others with brains, and some with beauty. However, I would like to think I was born with all the above, but most of all I was born with the innate gift of serving others. While growing up as a preacher’s kid, I witnessed my father help others by empowering them, motivating them, and praying for them. Observing how supportive my dad was of others I thought I want to do the same thing, but I knew I did not want to be a preacher. Growing up as a beautician’s daughter, I watched my mother improve others by building their self-esteem, being a listening ear, and sharing knowledge when necessary. I recall looking at my mother thinking I want to be that type of person when I grow up. I lacked the talents and creativity

In one of my recent fellowship group meetings, we were studying Acts 16, and it was pointed out that Paul and Timothy kept going back to places, regardless of the rejection they often received. Their tireless efforts paid off handsomely, rewarding them with the salvation of many souls, for which they always gave thanks to God.

I am a first generation child to have been born in my family, the first generation who is about to graduate high school and the first generation to go to a college and succeed in life.

Pure desperation is vomiting behind public dumpsters, or stealing laxatives from Target; it is shoving food into your pockets and your hair, hoping no one witnessed you scraping the butter from you slice of toast, storing the excess behind your fingernails. It is wearing ankle weights to yearly physicals, donating blood to “shed a few quick pounds”, and bringing plastic sandwich bags to Thanksgiving dinner to avoid eating the beautifully prepared meal. I was ten years old when I read that I could eat whatever I wanted without gaining weight, permitted that I was willing to carry a toothbrush around in my bag. Little did I know at the time that my playing with such dangerous behavior would then lead to my brain waging war against my body, a series of battles that I would consistently lose over the course of the next nine years.

In a restroom, in a church or anywhere else in the world you will judge a person by their appearance whether it be negative or positive, you cannot help it, it just happens whether you like it or not. For an example, when you are walking down the street and you see someone wearing ripped up clothes and bad hygiene then you automatically assume negative things such as beggar, homeless or even possibly a drug abuser. Being judged can go a different way also, you can think of someone as a rich, snobby individual because they are wearing very nice clothes and act a certain way but in all actuality, they could be a wonderful person. A more serious case of people judging other people that I have noticed is that most people

I was born on August 11th, 2003 on a beautiful morning in L.A Ontario. I am the only child of my parents. When I was six months old, my parents got divorced. My mom and I and my grandma moved to a different house.

The movement on the screen of my monitor was steady as a small telescope crept through the atmosphere. It made its way past the constellation of Sagittarius, the archer. I was assigned to watching the Hubble Space Telescope in its mission to capture photos of the Eagle Nebula, and it felt like a lifetime for the telescope to finally reach it. Every few seconds it would send photographs so I could analyze its journey.