As I held my hand up high, I looked down at my chest and could see the shine glimmering off of my new badge. I repeated the oath after my new chief of police, swearing to uphold the law, the Constitution, and to serve the public. As I said the oath, I looked beyond the chief of police and could see my parents and I thought about how just years prior we were homeless and now my accomplishment brought joy to my family. However, the joy from my new career would run out rather quickly. Before I knew it, I found out that my new career would not last very long as I was confronted with a department plagued by corruption.
I was ten years old when we left our home state. My father had recently been in two severe car accidents that had left him physically challenged. Not long after arriving in our new state, my parents left the apartment we had been staying in so we could go on an extended “camping trip”. The camping trip was last minute since we were evicted from where we had been staying. My parents were able to gather enough money together and we began to live out of various motels as the van my parents had was repossessed.
Oddly enough, there was one thing that held my attention and kept me away from getting into any trouble while homeless, and that was law enforcement. I dreamed of the day that I would become a police officer. I idolized law enforcement; I thought the uniform looked sharp and I whole heartily believed in the concepts of helping the innocent and holding
For the past 2 years I have been part of the San Francisco Police Activities League as a Cadet. As a Cadet I’ve had many opportunities that I never thought I would have. We, Cadets, help the San Francisco Police Department with any assistance they need in big Bay Area events or fundraising. I’ve gotten the chance to also meet the Chief of Police, Greg Suhr, and now Retired Deputy Chief, Lyn Tomioka. Never in my life did I think I would have the wonderful and honorable opportunity to meet 2 excellent people and many more amazing Officers. In the 2 years, I was awarded a Certificate of Appreciation by Chief Suhr for the work I’ve done as a PAL Cadet.
During the summer before my Freshman year I went to hell and back, and by hell I mean Philmont scout ranch. Just a little background, Philmont scout ranch is 140,117 thousand acres of big rugged, dry, mountainous terrain. I knew what I was getting into, Ever since I joined boy scouts Philmont was regarded as the ultimate scouting experience, so of course i was pressured into that. Eventually summer rolled around and before I knew it I was on a train to New Mexico.
I was in second grade, we were living in Searcy at the time, and I loved my home. I never wanted to leave. I felt safe there, at my home.
I don’t remember much, I just remember not wanting to leave. The place I would be spending the rest of my life I had only visited a few times. I, only being two at the time, was absolutely terrified of moving. Moving. It seemed like the worst possible thing that could’ve happened then. At first, when we left, it felt the same as the last time I had gone there. Then the realization that I would be gone forever kicked in, and the fact that this time, my dad wasn’t coming with us. Just my mom and I.
Attending camp neuro would be extremely helpful for me to continue exploring the healthcare field. I have been interested in the healthcare field ever since I was young because both my aunts were nurses, so when I was little my sister and I always played doctor or nurse with them. I started exploring the medical field by volunteering at the Children’s Hospital in Minneapolis over the summer. I looked forward to volunteering every week because I spent 3 hours holding infants and playing with patients and their siblings. While I was there I was able to observe doctors, nurses and a few physician’s assistants. In addition, I just finished an internship with an Orthopedic surgeon. I valued this opportunity to shadow him for a day in his clinic
I was nine years old when I moved to California from Japan, all the way across the world. Moving to California was quite possibly the weirdest experience that has happened to me as a child. Trying to move from a place that I pretty much spent my life in than literally going across the world without knowing anything about it was very foreign to me, however my parents used to live in california for about one or two decades.
Growing up as a military brat wasn't easy, there were many places we had to go to and we didn't have a choice. One of those places was here ,Illinois, and I was ten when we made the move here.This move was probably the hardest thing I have ever physically gone through considering all of my mom and I's stuff was lost in the ocean because the place we moved from was Hawaii.So, when we got here me and mom both didn't have our stuff but the rest of my family did.To make matters worse my dad was being shipped out to South Korea and we didn't have a house. For a whole year we were homeless,we put what was left of our stuff into storage and moved in with grandma. As terrible as that year was, it taught me a lot about what some people actually live
Me and my family moved to Wisconsin when I was nine years old since I was so young at the time I really didn't understand what the purpose of moving from California to Wisconsin was. It wasn't until later on when I was around the age of 12 that I found out that we moved here because financially it was more reasonable. Moving here allowed my mother to become a homeowner, something she wouldn’t have been able to do in California because of the high prices. I guess you can say that at the age of nine I really didn’t have a purpose to move here apart from the fact that my mom was moving. However, over the years I realized that moving to Wisconsin was the right thing to do.
My parents after having me and my sister had set their hearts, and minds set on moving to the United States they felt growing up in the U.S. would give us a better opportunity. When I was nine years old they had finally saved up enough money and completed the necessary paperwork for us to come to the states and be on our way to citizenship. When we first made the move I was deeply confused and upset with my parents. I had many close friends and family that I had to leave behind I felt as if they had stripped me away from my home.
Ernest Hemingway’s Hills Like White Elephant is about a couple, the American and a female named Jig debating about an operation Jig should have. Throughout the story, Jig is distant, the American is rational. Although the story never explicitly states what it is that the couple is arguing, if you really think about it, you’d realize that the tough situation where they are trying to make a decision, keeping their unborn child or having an abortion based on several different suggestions described. The reader must interpret their dialogue and body language to infer their backgrounds and their attitudes with respect to the situation at hand, and their attitudes toward one another. What the American thinks is best solution to their pregnancy,
Our first few years in the United States were difficult and full of struggles. We lived on an unlicensed construction worker (dad) and a housekeepers (mom) salary until I turned 16 and was legally allowed to work.
Wild animals fascinate almost any human being. Whether they’re a young toddler, or an elderly in a nursing home, everybody loves animals. Many people have a garden or grow some sort of plant. Some just have a small plant in their appartment, some grow a large vegetable garden. Believe it or not, there is an entire lifestyle which is just this. Out in the woods everyday, gardening and growing all kinds of different varieties of food, and getting to breath the fresh air of nature. In this lifestyle, people depend on hunting, gathering, and gardening. They typically live in the Arctic, desert, or tropical rainforests (“Hunter-Gatherer”). They no longer live in igloos and teepees, but in sustainable wood-framed
Indian-Americans are people who either originated themselves or descend from an ancestor who was born in India. The dynamics in a home where parents are native Indians and the children are first generation born Indian-Americans are quite different from other hyphenated American cultures. The languages used within the homes as well as the rituals to show levels of respect are critical things implemented within a family unit of this stature. The spoken and unspoken rules of communication shape the first generation Indian-Americans and how they interact with others in their generation.
cultured home, having nobody to ask for help due to the fact that my parents had not much
It was the summer of 1977, and my father decided to pack the station wagon and drive from Fort Worth to Tampa, Florida. Besides my parents in the vehicle, my two sisters and brother also joined us for the long journey. I was young and excited and did not realize the distance my father would be driving on this trip. We made two stops on the way down and the first one was in Mississippi at a Holiday Inn. My first time spending the night the night at a hotel occurred on this vacation, and I was excited. We had adjoining rooms with my parents, and we spent the evening in the pool and watching television all night. I was never aware of my parents’ finances but I know now, we did not have a lot of money. From Mississippi, we stopped again in Tallahassee, Florida and we swam in the ocean during the afternoon and hit the hotel pool in the