Personal Narrative-My Way Of Living In America

Suspended in a place outside of time and space, I stand gazing at a seemingly never ending row of food laid out on the beautifully set dark cherry table. From the doorway to the dining room, three strong knocks swivel my head to the front of the cottage: an arched wooden door waits patiently to be opened.

Squinting into the sun, I discern four people of varying shapes and sizes standing in front of the door. Each one chosen in an attempt to achieve a range of geographical location, time periods, ways of life, economic standing, age, gender, and experience through major world events. Stepping to the side, I greet each of my selected guests as they enter.

Our dinner party consists of myself: a teenager from 2017 with limited life experience, living a comfortable life with my family and dog in the sixth best place to live in America. Also, I lived through America’s first black president - Barack Obama - as well as the controversy over his successor, Donald Trump. I shake hands with the first person. Also from 2017, she is the most elderly of the group with the lowest economic standing. She lives in a small rural village in the African country Togo, and enters wearing a
colorful dress made of local wax-print fabric and an even brighter colorful smile. A greyed man follows her. Gaunt and quite elderly in his last decade of life, he will pass away in 1976. Once extremely wealthy, he was unfortunately a Jew living during the rise of Hitler and World War II and lost his fortunes. Surviving the Holocaust and following the end of the war, he reestablished his residence in Germany and lived the succeeding years in modest comfort. Third, the hand of a middle-aged, poor, and heavily oppressed man from India enters mine. This man heroically fought alongside Gandhi in demanding India’s freedom from Great Britain and, before passing in 1948 at merely 50 years old, has the honor to witness the partition of India. Finally, in flounces a wealthy young woman who recently married an extremely successful southern American plantation owner in 1821. Nobody is famous. The people I chose represent a version the average person from their community.

With everybody inside, I lead them to the dining room. As they take their seats, I move to the head of the table. From there, I finally announce, “I have gathered you here today to discuss matters central to the meaning of life.” A rustle runs through the group. I take my seat and wait for someone to begin. Silence. Alright, then I shall start. “I believe that the meaning of life comes from the relationships that you form. How you impact them, and how they impact you.” From this, I receive some nods of agreement and the young lady from pre-Civil War southern America opens her mouth to continue.

People warm up more until we have a lively discussion, and time evaporates.
The meaning of life is a widely contested subject and varies so greatly for each individual base on their personal experiences. To hear each guest’s own perspective on an the significance of individual lives was fascinating. The answers and interpretations varied greatly, yet somehow came back to either self-preservation or love for all. Two conflicting concepts which manage to coexist as human’s main goals. My guests were selected not only for their difference in circumstances and life experiences, but also for my personal inability to guess their response to the night’s topic. The meaning of life is one of life’s greatest mysteries, a mystery left up to each individual to discover and decide the solution for
themself.