Reflection Paper

There are multiple reasons I am where I am today and why I’m going where I’m going. I have struggled in school ever since I can remember but without the people that I have had in my life I wouldn’t where I am today. But as I will talk about the teacher have played a huge role in the reason I am able to be where I am today.

Over the history of this country, many families across the globe have come to the U.S. in hopes of a better life. My family was one of the many that decided to leave our home country and come to the United States. We never realistically imagined coming to America, but when we did, it was a real dream come true. Knowing I was coming to this country as a student was especially exciting for me personally. We were so excited about this new adventure and the opportunities we would have, despite the many challenges that lay ahead. Two of the obstacles I had to overcome, were having to learn a new language, and build new relationships.

To go along with being an athlete, I am a student. To be able to get playing time, you need to have good grades. My parents didn’t just push me to be a good athlete, but to get good grades. I had higher expectations compared to my brother. But that pushed me to keep my grades up and do get an A on assignments and tests. This impacted who I was and what I decided to value. It was important to my parents that I got good grades, but to me it was too because it helped me get into college and it made me feel good about myself. Being a student, just like being an athlete, teaches me to be diligent in the work that I have in front of me. It also teaches me time management, and what I need to get done compared to going out with my friends.

In school, I used to loathe the icebreakers that involved saying an interesting fact about oneself. I would fumble around and iterate some unoriginal sentiment about my favorite color or animal and leave without actually providing substance about myself. This all changed after I lost the vision in my right eye and could tell people about the three-inch needle that pierces my eye multiple times every year. I thoroughly enjoy watching people squirm as I chuckle and explain the process.

My mother does genology for my family so I know that I am mostly a mix of African, Native American and not enough European to really think about. I look like a normal African-American girl and most people I come in contact with assume the same thing. To define myself without race I would say I am invested in the betterment of other peoples lives and performing in front of an audience. As a black woman I am affected mostly in my major, theatre, because being black is a factor in whether or not I am cast in certain roles. Personally it has been a rollercoaster going to predominately white-schools and still finding a way to love and appreiciate my blackness. I’m reminded of my race daily when I have to mix my foundations to find a shade that isn’t offered or when my theatre professors suggest I do a monologue from “A Raisin in the Sun’ and as of recently when I look at the news I am affected by the fact that the injustice in the world based on race could happen to me or a loved one in a heartbeat.

In the summer of 2016 I left on a rare affair to burn through three weeks in India teaching English at a local primary school in a little village. Much to my dismay that the effect it would have on me in my English class in my senior year of high school. Before my journey began my parents revealed to me that this experience would change my view on a considerable measure of things back home and make me more appreciative of all the opportunities I have in the United States. If were not for this extraordinary experience my literacy practices would have been entirely different my senior year.

I remember where it all started; I sat on the guard stand of an empty pool with a nagging mother texting my phone and time to kill. It was the summer before my senior year, the summer before I would make the most important decision of my life so far. I stared down at the blank list of schools in front of me; where to start? I visited a few campuses, and my mother put a few bugs in my ear, one for her alma mater, and the other for two historically black schools (HBCUs). I wrote the first down, placing it low on my list, but there was hesitation with the other two. My entire academic career have been in predominantly white environments; how would I navigate a majority black space?

I’m a light skin woman living in south Mississippi. I do not personally identify with a race of people. However, my family identifies themselves as Caucasian, I debunk race identification as an arbitrary made-up system employed to categorize people. I believe we are one race, the human race. I more identify with nationality as an American.

Looking in the mirror at the actual physical presentation of myself, I investigated what other people view when they looked upon me. At that moment, I began to realize what the features are interpreted as. My hair is pulled up and tight, various people have suspected military, but I have never been enlisted. My glasses and crooked teeth would suggest that my parents were low income, no corrective surgery or braces for me. My body image would be identified, instantly by women, as having children and I do have two sons. After one eight-pound boy and the other almost ten-pound baby my body did not return to its original dimensions, there was no weight trainer or nutritionist for me. My calloused hands will tell anyone that I am a blue-collar worker and the ring on my left tells them that I am married. Progressing through college and beyond will be my way out of the shell that society has created me in, it will be my golden door to freedom.

Going into this term, I wasn’t sure what to expect. My initial plan did not include taking this course this summer. Somehow, Troy ended up changing the schedule and it worked out for me. At least, I thought it was going to work out for me. This term has been very interesting. The classes that I took are PSY 6645 Evaluation and Assessment and CP 6642 Group Dynamics. This paper is going to be about my experience in PSY 6645. I’m going to discuss concepts that were new to me, experiences that caused me to think differently, if I feel as if this course is meaningful, and what can be applied to my professional practice.

Writing is a tool that will be used throughout my lifetime. It is a tool that is worth taking the time to perfect because it will only be beneficial in the long run. On my writing assignments, I earn A’s, but I still have areas that I need to work on. The areas that I struggle the most would be with simple grammar errors such as the use of commas, writing with an active voice, and writing short,simple sentences. First of all, I often do not know where to place commas in my sentence. I struggle with this because I tend to add commas in the wrong place, so I have become confused with the proper use of commas. This is a small grammar error that I can easily correct by learning where and when commas are needed. I have also found and been told that I write in a passive voice when I should be using an active voice. This is a technique that I have to work on by practicing it and noticing the difference while I am writing and reading. Finally, I often write run on sentences or sentences that include unnecessary information. This makes my writing unclear and difficult for the reader to understand. I could improve by writing shorter and simpler sentences that include only the essential information to get my point across. I have noticed these mistakes in my writing and it has also been brought up by others, so I am currently working on improving it.

Life represents a culmination of unforeseen events that eventually lead to success, and in the minds of the majority college symbolically defines the first major obstacle one must overcome to continue that journey. Every year, high school students across the nation eagerly anticipate the coming of their senior year and the rapidly approaching adventure to follow, but for many it simply reminds them of the heartache that is soon to come. My own personal experience began with the blinding influence hope cast over my judgement as inner levels of excitement exponentially increased and my emotions became steadily influenced by the people surrounding me. However, little was I aware that my future had already been decided and no external force would have the necessary impact to reconfigure my current course. In a sense, my ship had already sailed and was leading me in ironclad chains to foreign lands of which my presence was to be forced. College, to me, would soon become an indescribable burden where reality would suddenly become brutally clear and all hopes for a productive future existed upon the fate of an unstable pendulum.

It was two and a half years ago, in Conroe, Texas. The sun beat down and drew every bit of moisture from my breath. Every move that was made was a sweaty and laborious process. I was atop a steel frame, eight stories in the air. Laying on my belly with my feet dangling over the side pulling measurements and creating pools of sweat in my safety glasses. This was a typical Monday for an ironworker; pouring sweat by 8:00 a.m., cursing the sun, and disregarding your own personal safety to benefit someone else’s interests.

I stood atop a wooden stage found in an auditorium located in the University of Toledo. While standing there, Dan Stark, the Toledo region’s current engineer of the year, handed me a scholarship while the sound of applause filled the large building. The framed sheet of paper had a four-digit number written in it in large font: $1,000. To understand the circumstances that led up to this event one must observe the past and how I learned the importance of hard work.

Many governesses before Maria considered the von Trapp children to be incorrigible. They hated the children for the mischief that they do and the children hated the governesses in return. Hate begets hate.