Reflection Paper

I grew up in Greenville, South Carolina. Having had grown up in the south, I was always around people who are more traditional in viewpoints, especially when surrounding the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transsexual/Transgender, Questioning, and more community. I received my education at a high school where no one hesitated to throw around extremely derogatory terms. Throughout my schooling I had found close friends who had expressed their feelings of not fitting into their biological sex. Every time I heard them talk about their feelings I felt my heart sinking. I knew it was not fair. I found myself constantly feeling their pain. Feeling all their fear, anger, and sadness along with them because I knew that they lived in fear of people finding out who they really were and what their reactions might be. It broke my heart that they were forced into constantly fearing for their safety.

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.

Every school has these four main academic subjects: English, Math, Science, History/Geography. The class I like the most in my eighth grade school year is History. This is because we get to learn about different time periods, different people, different religions, and so much more. We don't just sit in class and read out of a textbook. We get to do fun activities to help us understand more. While we work, we talk to our teacher and have funny and weird conversations. We make fun of each other and have a good laugh. I'm always excited to go to History class.

A brief overview and background: I went on a mission trip with my church Youth group to a deaf village in Jamaica. While we were there, we built dorm rooms and classrooms for the children living there. The impact that trip had on my life was amazing. It made me realize just how good we have it in the United States of America.When I am hungry or upset and I didn't get the newest trend clothing, I always think back to the children down in Jamaica. They literally have nothing. At the deaf village, all the children are foster kids. Their parents gave them away because they did not want to deal with their disabilities. I have never taken my parents for granted again, because of what we have and the relationships we have in the U.S.are very precious, We are a very blessed nation.

In our everyday lives, we tend to categorize people because of their race, culture, their socioeconomic status, and judge people by their looks, age, ability, and gender. When I was working at a daycare past summer of grade 9, I met one Chinese girl who was around 4-5 years old. One time I witness her classmates making fun of her because she has a asian accent when she talks in English, her eyes are small, her mom works at a restaurant with low pay. Even during break, I would always see her sitting in a corner all alone, while others were having fun. Therefore, I took the courage to talk to her. Throughout the conversation, I realized that she was mad at herself because she has a different race from others, language barrier between her and her classmates and she was ashamed of her mother working at a restaurant because other parents work at a higher pay occupation.

The Jesus and Christian Community class at Fresno Pacific University is a course where a student can further develop their relationship and understanding of the Bible while discovering a relationship with Christ. All incoming freshmen are required to take this course as a part of their general education requirements which focuses on the book of Matthew, his interpretation, and the historical background of the Bible. One of our assignments is to help incoming pupils understand a certain verse and its purpose. The section we will be focusing on is the in Matthew chapter 17 verses 14 through 21 in addition to the Sadducees and other related topics. Jesus has followers which are the general public and disciples who are the people who claim to be devoted to God called the Pharisees and Sadducees. The faction of the disciples called the Sadducees are a group that are not characteristically what one would depict as humble servant of Christ. They followed their own set of rules and had standards that were different from the Pharisees, the followers of Christ, and Jesus himself. As we continue this discussion, we will see the importance of the verse in Matthew along with the roles the Sadducees and the things that influenced their cultural views.

She compared her life to a hurricane, a natural disaster that took everything in its path and destroy any shred of light in her life. Thus, the weeks turned into years of regressive behavior that led her to believe that she was not good enough to truly be herself. She only allowed herself to be her mother’s puppet, an item only used for public occasions, for if she ever became her own self, she would be outcasted. Yet, during those times I recall a shout in the cave of darkness, a murmured voice saying: Carpe Diem. Seize the day. My brother used those words when I was little —he was an extroverted fellow who vocalized whatever he felt because he was confident in whom he was. Nevertheless, I was an introverted, insecure, and self-conscious kid who was silenced by the public because they scared me. Fear ruled my actions. Fear ruled my mind. Fear ruled me; yet, my brother’s words rang a certain alarm in my head when I grew up. Thus, I realized that my individuality was stolen. My silence was bought, and my uniqueness was used as a weapon for society’s cruel expectations. I noticed that the world has so many beliefs, ideas, and aspirations that I wanted my own drum to beat in my own rhythm.

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.

Since arriving on campus, I have been asked how I came to Miami several times. Some would say that coming here is destiny, but I disagree. Psalm 139 says that before I was born, “in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them” (NKJV, Psalms 139:16). While there are several main components about which I will write, I keep coming back to the fact that God placed me here.

I accepted Jesus Christ as my savior when I was 20 years old. At that time I was struggling with my family, problems in school and toxic relationship with my boyfriend. Despite believing in God I still did not have the knowledge of his word and the spiritual skills to find the wisdom and spiritual resources. In the midst of all those difficult circumstances a miracle happened: the Savior chose me, one of my aunts invited me to a Bible study group where I was captivated by the love, forgiveness and guidance that the word of God and His Holy Spirit was giving me in that moment the peace which surpasses all understanding, so from that day I made the decision and went to my aunt's church, to a retreat and then baptized accepting Jesus as my savior.

Pencils rolled and minds drifted. Time seemed to pass at least twice as slow as usual when a usually energetic and lively class of fourth graders was brought to steady silence while their teacher droned on about kinetic energy later passing out a reading and worksheet. In the end worksheets ended up half finished and students left the class full of confusion and disinterest. In a later lesson, the class was transformed. The classroom was littered with poster paper, markers, and ideas. The students were finishing up posters explaining kinetic energy based on an experiment done earlier in the unit using a marble and toy car track. The room was filled with a steady stream of chatter that only diminished once the students sat down to watch a video on the effects of kinetic energy on two very different cars: a toy car and an actual car. After observing these two very different lessons and comparing them to others I noticed a distinct pattern. When learning through experiments, projects, and videos the students were not only more engaged, but they appeared to have learned more that they had in the previous lesson. A question was quickly raised on what we should do as teachers if students do not respond well to our lesson plans.

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.

Of the many writing experiences I’ve had as both a student and a military officer, two events stand out that shaped both my appreciation of and confidence in writing. The first happened when I was in grade school and involved my father. He enrolled in a basic computer class sponsored by his employer and I clearly remember him agonizing over a short writing assignment to describe the applications for computers. I remember thinking it seemed like a simple task, but for him it was an arduous process for which he was not prepared. The second incident occurred during my MBA studies, working in a group of three on a capstone research project. As the integrator of our combined contributions, I was astounded when one of my project partners sent his portion, of which a large section had the faint blue background evident of a cut-and-paste from Wikipedia, yet no citations. These cases stick out because of what I’ve found are two truths in writing.

Despite my intellect, most colleges would classify me as a mundane, unimpressive person. I'm a white, heterosexual, Christian male: the most stereotypical example of a privileged person in America. I have experienced privilege, but I have also experienced hardships and inequitable stereotypes.

I remember sitting in my first grade classroom and staring at the whiteboard while Mrs. Amen talked. “What if all this church stuff is a lie fooling the world?” I thought and would continue to for a while afterwards. Growing up, I had always assumed I became a Christian when I was 6 years old but now I’m convinced it wasn’t authentic. Everyone else in my church and school was one so I essentially thought, "Why not?" However, I was never convinced of its authenticity, having never felt the presence of the Holy Spirit or the Father’s perfect love. It was in no way my church’s fault but the Holy Spirit waited to show Himself to me. Until then I would tune out every time God being brought up and only saw the Bible as a resource for world history. However, when I was 12, God brought me to my knees and over the years has thoroughly convinced me logically, emotionally, and practically of His existence moreover the Bible.