Personal Narrative: My Individual Community Project
In the summer of 2013 at a family barbeque I nonchalantly asked my aunt if there was any way I could volunteer at her job, an intercity Salvation Army Core, throughout the week. Asking this simple question that I initially didn’t put much consideration into, steered to far more than I could had ever anticipate. I projected what my experience would be like at the core playing out different scenarios in my head. I expected it to be similar to every other volunteer experience I had, simply assist the employees and perchance meet a few people along the way. I thought I would be working in a back pantry categorizing and bundling foods into care packages having minimal encounters.
The organization, which I decided to volunteer two hours of my day to, was Cumac. Cumac is located in Paterson, New Jersey and they work to serve the people in the counties of Passaic, Paterson, and Northern New Jersey. They work with a staff of 21 and volunteers from all over to help people in need with food and supplies they would need to survive. Their mission statement is: “CUMAC feeds people and changes lives. It works to alleviate hunger and its root causes for those in need in Paterson, Passaic County, and northern New Jersey.”
Evelynn Hammonds’ book, Childhood’s Deadly Scourge, details the control campaign initiated in New York City against diphtheria. This novel acknowledges that historical narratives often anoint scientific medicine as the sole reason for disease control but argues the necessity of both the contributions of scientific and social factors in diphtheria’s control efforts. Through the progression of her novel, Hammonds’ central argument “contend[s] that diphtheria was not controlled in any direct or straightforward way by the introduction of bacteriological knowledge” (Hammonds 7). In this way, Childhood’s Deadly Scourge deviates from the idea that the collection of accurate knowledge produces the desired outcome. The book includes a thorough analysis
Description I volunteered at Meals on Wheels for 15 hours. I worked three days from 8 am to 1 pm.
Well let’s start with a previse job, when I lived in New Jersey. I worked for a place called Project Freedom, Inc. has adapted housing for people with disabilities, fund and develop programs to assist people with disabilities. My position was bus driver, but with varies other duties involved, such as scheduling different activities, aiding in their personal care, assist in feeding, helping them with purchases. Now let me tell you about some of our activities. We had activities 5 to 6 days a week, one of their favorite things to do was bingo.
I’m a first generation american on my father's side and second generation on my mothers. In large part, who I am today, is a direct reflection of them immigrating to this country. I learned hard work, determination, and commitment through stories they shared with me about the lives they built when they arrived to America. I’m proud of my roots and the legacy that my parents and grandparents have instilled in me and much of who I am today is a reflection of their own hard work.
Throughout my life I have come from and created a few identities for myself. Perhaps, the most dominant identities that have been apart of my life are being an athlete and being a family orientated man. In this paper I will write about how my identities have shaped my life. First off I believe my biggest identity is being an athlete.
Our team was like no other, we were the Smallest but and Mightiest team at City Year Miami. One of our most unique aspects of our team was that we had to share our totally super mega ultra awesome Team Leader Alexa Reichbaum with Redland Middle School Which became our sister school. Together we conquered many team builders and trainings including our Community Mapping event which was planned by Redland’s Glyn Turner and Shelby Chaney as well our very own Daniqua Denson! They made the event into a very enjoyable scavenger hunt. We divided ourselves (15 in total) into three team where we competed amongst the other teams to take pictures of ourselves in all the locations that were on the scavenger hunt before any other team.
Shaped by the Flaws of My Community Have you ever just been going about your day and find yourself in a specific place that at an earlier time in your life was so much more relevant than it is presently. A place that you just cannot help passing without having a sudden feeling of nostalgia, a memory from an earlier time in your life. This tends to happen to me on a frequent basis. I think the reason for this is that I have lived in the same community of Perry Hall and only moved once in my life. I still reside only a few miles from the hospital where I made my entrance in this world 18 years ago.
As I laid in bed, searching across one of my favorite websites, creepypasta, for a decent scary story to read; I stopped short. " The Other You" was the title of the extremely short story that I now wish I had never opened. The story instructed that if you stand in front of a mirror, grab a random piece of hair while looking at yourself, then holding a ruler or other object capable of accurate measurement, then marked the ruler; then afterward doing it again only without looking in the mirror, that the lengths would be different. It said that doing this created confusion to your doppelgänger, whom you supposedly see in the mirror, living in an alternate universe.
Taking my very first steps into the United States at 10 years old, I naïvely thought that becoming an immigrant only meant enduring a bumpy plane ride. I was a boy, unaware of the challenging events that would significantly impact my life. Disguised in those events though, were valuable lessons that taught me about overcoming the tides of change. My first time attending a class in the United States, my heart dropped at finding out how significantly behind I was in the curriculum. Compounding to my feeling of alienation and discouragement, were many classmates that found it fun to mock me for my appearance and how I spoke.
Let me set the scene, it’s a balmy night in Copenhagen, the empty streets are filled with the sound of our feet hitting the pavement, reverberating off the buildings, rippling through the air like a pebble dropped into a deep pond. The time is 9 p.m., to be exact, and Kathryn and I are in search of something to pique our interest. Kathryn and I have been acquaintances since the age of 8 when we met performing in musical theatre. She was kind, outgoing, and wore a yellow raincoat to practice everyday, even though it never actually rained. I was quiet, timid, and my clothing consisted of a variety of sweat pants and dance clothes.
A community provides an identity for those within it. Although I belong to countless communities such as those of African-American and McDonogh School, my hair is who I am. It associates me with individuals in the African-American community and allows me to foster a deeper connection with those that have curly hair. From a young age I was taught that straight hair was considered more beautiful and ‘professional.’ Because of this, I struggled to embrace my natural hair until I was forced to love it two summers ago.
When asked to describe myself, only one thing comes to mind. How does one describe oneself? That is a question I have struggled to answer my entire life. Anxiety and depression are two things I have struggled with as long as I can remember. What I once thought was the worst thing that ever happened to me turned out to be the greatest gift I have ever been given.
Starting over Starting over might be easy when you are young, but if you are middle age and already have a stable and calm life, it is very hard to start over. My family and I moved from Egypt to The US three years ago, so we had to start from scratch. We found systems in the US are different from my country. After we found a good residence, our concern was finding employment. I was a science teacher in my country, so I tried to find a job in the educational field, but there were a lot of requirements to get a job as a teacher.
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