Personal Narrative: My Mayor
Waking up, moving her arm across the bed to feel some type of completion, like someone was there to wake up beside her to say good morning. deciding to do
Like the classic saying has it “You can take the kid out of Brooklyn but you can’t take the Brooklyn out of the kid.” Same goes for Chicago this is my story. I was born in the windy city, on the south side. I wasn’t there for that long I was there till my fifth birthday, and then I moved to Boston, Ma with my mother, sister and I. However, I believe that south side raised me because every winter and summer vacation I would visit my grandmother or as she liked to be called “Mo-Mo” While visiting her I’ve seen some pretty harsh situations.
One night, during the cold winter, I walked along the side walk to reach the local store down the block. As I walked out, before I can realize it, I was dropping down onto the concrete while bullets swiftly passed me. I then began to run back home, but I wanted to keep running. Away from Chicago, away from the west side. Growing up in Chicago, it was easy to assume that there was nothing different beyond the blocks of my streets.
Recently me and my fellow classmates were given the opportunity to interview an urban teacher. The Urban teacher I was given was Mr.Fine, who is an african American male who has taught history and English in urban setting schools in the cities such as Brooklyn, New York and Atlanta, Georgia. Mr.Fine now teaches a humanities class in a private school in London, England. During our interview Mr.Fine really opened my classmates and I eyes, He showed us that not everything that happens in teacher needs to be planned, you should always teach though the multiple lens, do what is necessary then apologizing for them later, and that we need to raise critical analysis to help students become completely aware of their surroundings.
Don’t mess with my blanket. (Smile) we was running a little behind. My prince wanted more bedtime this mornin’ plus I had to put our basket together, didn’t have time
At the beginning of this assignment, I choose inner city culture because I was under the impression that I knew at least a little about it. I live in the suburbs of Chicago, and my parents have often worked in the inner city, and so I have heard many stories. However, completing this project has shown me how little I know about other cultures, and how important it is to research before meeting a client. To begin, I have often been told that violence and poverty in the inner city are partially caused by bad parenting and drugs. While those can be a cause of problems in the inner city, just like they can be anywhere, none of my research identified those aspects as ultimate causes.
I have lived in East Oakland my whole life. To the majority of people, the mention of East Oakland evokes thoughts of violence, shootings, and gangs. I was one of the people who believed in these stereotypes, and for a particularly long time. I was one of the people who saw Oakland as a wasteland, a place with nothing to offer me, and a place I had nothing to offer to.
I grew up in San Francisco, California and I am so happy that i did. My home state has always seemed so welcoming compared to others and it still continues to do so in my opinion. I believe that growing up in california has positively influenced me because it is so diversed and filled with endless opportunities. There are so many people from all over the world who come to california and it is an important aspect because it resulted to having me exposed to different cultures as I’ve grown up and it has changed my perspectives on many things in the world. Opportunities are also everywhere in california, for example , a program that i am attending called Breakthrough, it is a non profit organization that supports youth in receiving a good education and supports students on the path to college.
I quickly finished tying my shoe and hopped onto my purple mountain bike and we were off. Logan my brother who I love sometimes,Cassie My best friend, Easton Cassie’s brother,Sawyer Cassie’s brother, Mr. Wychers and I were going to ride our bikes through a trail off in the woods and go to Whistle stop and then cut through town and head to Houseman's. The sky was cloudy and the daylight was being blocked by a thick dark cloud, which looked a lot like a rain cloud. We started to cut through a dead cornfield, lifeless tall brown and crusty plants sat in a single spot and as the soft wind blew the once luscious herbs. I felt the dead greens slap me in the leg and burrs got stuck to my pant leg.
As a young girl, around the age of 10 I lived in the Perry projects with my mother. Previously to moving there I would visit often to see my great-grandmother. When I would visit my grandmother there were not many other people that were African-American. The Commodore Perry Projects had been actually made for white people.
I have had tough hope once, I had to move to a different state and start to get used to the new place. Moving was hard and took a long time to move everything to our new house. My new house was hard to get used to because it was different and I wasn 't used to it which made it hard to sleep and I had to leave my friends behind and I would have to find new friends. Making new friends was hard because I would be alone until I found new friends and I would have no one to talk to so I would be very quiet. Usually I would always be talking to a friend and I am only social with friends.
“Islam began as something strange, and it will return to being strange, so glad tidings to the strangers.” “What? I’m not strange…” thought eight year old me sitting in my Saturday Islamic Studies class. I saw no difference between myself and my elementary school classmates. I did not view myself as a stranger, and my peers never pointed out anything of the sort to me.
Throughout the 25 minute bus ride, I could feel the nerves radiating off of the 30 something teens and adults. We quickly learned to savor these bus rides, no matter how uncomfortable, as they provided the only escape from the Jamaican heat and humidity, that hung over us heavily wherever we went. Rolling into the village, the first person we saw was a boy, no more than 13 years old, flipping us off while smoking a joint. Looking at those sitting around me, I could see the surprise and astonishment, as well as apprehension towards how the rest of the people living in the small town would act and how receptive they would be to us being there. Stepping off of the bus, the humidity hit me like a wall.
“All dreams can come true if you have the courage to pursue them.”-Walt Disney My trip to Disney World was really enjoyable, one for the record books. We drove to Florida and spent 5 days there. When we arrived in Orlando, we went to our condo, at World Quest Resorts.
I have always been paranoid. I sleep with three lamps on since I’m deathly afraid of the dark, and have pepper spray with me every day that I walk home from school. I can almost never stay home alone, because of my fear of kidnappers and robbers breaking in. Scary movies are not my thing at all and on halloween I prefer to stay home and pass out candy. My biggest fear of all though, are the popular girls at school.
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