I was never interested in tractors until I went to Louisiana last summer. Going to Louisiana was one of the best things that has ever happened to me during my life. Going to Louisiana was so awesome being able to watch and drive enormous diesel tractors and watch my uncle cut rice with a combine(which is a machine that is used to cut rice on a farm. It helped me learn about rice and the machines that farmers use to cut rice. I got to see where the rice is stored after it is cut, my uncle dries out the rice to get all the moisture out before they sell it and take the rice out of the rice bins.
Over the summer I traveled to Tennessee to see my cousins. The day we arrived, we visited Lake Winnie, an amusement park with tons of rides with a water park. It was a joyful day. That day I went on the first roller coaster I 've ever been on. While walking nervously up the steps to get into line with my cousin, I felt the adrenaline rushing through my body, and I felt very anxious.
Golden light from a Texas sunset illuminating stark white fields of cotton, green and yellow tractors leisurely making their way down the middle of Main Street, and a community that will always support you are just a few things one might experience if you came to my hometown in rural Texas. Matador, Texas isn't just a dusty old town in the middle of nowhere, it is a town that no matter who you are or what you are trying to do, hard work is always required; it is where I grew up from the day I was born, spent lazy summer days reading and writing abstract stories without distractions of people, traffic, or even the ever-present cell phone, and where I learned about a whole other side of society, one where the community gathers together for anything
The community I grew up in central Texas celebrated my heritage, honored differences in culture, and fostered personal growth and self-discovery. My parents, with the strong work ethic they developed on their family’s farms in Ghana, encouraged my brother and me to work hard and find ways to use our skills to be of service to others, which wasn’t hard to do growing up in Austin with its many avenues to become involved and take care of the community, whether it was helping to direct families through the Trail of Lights at Zilker Park during the winter or raise money for educational programs for underprivileged kids in the area through working the concession stands at the University of Texas at Austin. It was this collaborative mindset that Austin
Growing up in Capital Heights, Maryland was never easy. At the time the crime in that City was to me, at its peak, there were shootings, robbing’s, and bad influences around every corner. Every day I got up early and walked out my little house sitting firmly on the hill, down the street to John Edgar Howard Elementary, the school I attended at the time. Yes, the neighborhood was rough, but I was fortunate enough to have a strong support system. My Grandmother made sure to wake me up every morning to haul me of to school where I would meet my loving, devoted teachers and coaches.
I’ve completed my move to Houston. I traded in my Maryland license for a Texas one. With that said, I’ve found a new church home. I joined Wheeler Avenue Baptist Church on January 13th. The church is very similar to STCF.
Growing up, I never believed I had an identity. When I delve back to my earliest of memories, both English and Spanish made an appearance in my dialogue. Because my life had always remained constrained in a blend of American and Mexican culture, it was difficult to distinguish exactly which group I resonated most with. Here in the Rio Grande Valley, it is an internal war that is fought constantly. Whoever could predominantly show their Mexican heritage would be held at a great regard for not neglecting their roots.
Life is based on a foundation of decisions and circumstances compiled on a precarious perspective of the user. The structure often relies on small and often overlooked elements. They receive no recognition, yet are the very reason for its prosperity. Trade towns and old docks are the lifeblood of the world, but best suited away from the public eye. Meant for the undesirables to deal with.
I used to have this grudges in my heart when everything go hard that would made me wanted to blame my parent. But I can’t because I was not raise to think that way. When I come to America, I was eleven years old and no one asked me if I wanted to come it just happen in a second. I was in a cold place with extended family that I never met before and that one person who raise me and made me feel secure was still back in the country. I had to lived months without her and next thing you know I adapted and convince myself they are doing this because the wanted the best for me.
The greatest journey I went on was moving from New York to Texas. My family and I had packed up the van, and we were driving to Texas to meet up with our moving truck. I learned a thing or two on our trip. One thing I learned is that change is ok. Another thing I learned is to follow where God wants you to go.
When I was 14 I had to move to San Clemente, California. I had already recently moved temporarily to Texas while a house was made ready for us on the military base. “The house is ready!” my mother had said excitedly, after being on the phone for a few minutes. “It’s time to go back?”
Growing up i always struggled with coming to terms with how i was raised and my environment. I was raised in Brentwood, New York, in a community commonly known for gang violence and troubled teens. It was a very scary place at a young age i remember all the extra lockdown drills we had, all the kids crying because they were scared of the gunshot they just heard whether it be a few blocks down or just outside our school window. I remember kids coming to school crying because of the gang war that happened on their street the night before. I remember my principle having to walk me to the school gate because the creepy old man wouldn't leave 7 year old me alone and how i was afraid of just belonging to a community like that.
Can you guess where my first trip was to? In May 13, 2003, I had my first trip to El Paso Texas. I woke up at 8am I was super excited and nervous at the same time, because I knew this trip would be a great experience for me. I was going to take a plane for the first time.
Alabama Trip My mom and and dad told me in December that we were going to Gulf Shores, Alabama to visit my grandparents. Gulf Shores is the southernmost town in Alabama, located on the north coast of the Gulf of Mexico. I have been there twice when I was little. I remember that I collected seashells and went swimming with Boppa in the pool.
My father, Chingachgook, my brother, Uncas, and I were visiting our friends on the Frontier. Life on the frontier was hard, and days were constantly filled with fear and hard work. People living on the frontier grew their own food, and lived in log cabins. The French and the Indians constantly would attack because they wanted everyone to fear them. While we were on the frontier, we learned that John, the father of the frontier families, did not want to volunteer in the war because he feared Indians would attack his family.
