Personal Narrative: My Life As A Native American

Life as a Native American sucks. I realized this when I was a little kid. I’ve come to accept that what other people label or describes us as are true. I’m not happy to admit this they are right. My people don’t do anything to prove these people’s claims, or better known as stereotypes, about Native Americans wrong. Instead they do the complete opposite and just give these people all the reasons why they are right about how Native Americans are. I realized how my people being called as alcoholic, poor, and uneducated are all sadly true. For example, on New Year’s eve, my family had a big party which was suppose to be fun. It was suppose to be a good get-together family party, but as expected it wasn’t like that at all. My two uncles, named Adolph and Arnold, got into a very bloody fistfight with each other due to all of the drinking that they had. As a

One night, Victor had drunk too much from an Indian party that he had went to and so when he came back home and tried to sleep he couldn’t. In the book, it said, “It was late early in the morning. He kept his eyes open until they grew accustomed to the dark, until he could see vague images of the bedroom...Fifteen minutes had passed and it ways closer to sunrise and he still hadn’t slept at all” (Alexie 85). This reminded me of the times in which I would have all nighters from playing video games. I remember how I would first start playing like at 10 at night and then just keep at it until I’d see from the window that it wasn’t night anymore and the sun was starting to rise. And when this would happen, I would be surprised because I realized that I hadn’t gotten sleepy or tired at all from playing videos games all