My first memory involving religion of any kind is when my grandmother was my temporary Sunday school teacher. This memory had absolutely nothing to do with reading the bible or praying or doing anything of that sort. I have no idea why I remember it either. The memory is of about four other kids and me sitting around the Sunday school table while my grandma sang a song about our ancestry and how it didn’t start with monkeys. The song went like this “I’m no kin to the monkey‚ the monkey’s no kin to
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do know the profound impact sports have had on my adult life. I was struggling to reconnect with who I was when I was younger. Many ways were suggested on how I should go about this‚ but my favorite suggestion came from my family. They showed me many pictures and videos of me playing sports‚ horsing around with team mates‚ and holding trophies or awards. In every shred of those digital memories‚ there was an unmistakable happiness in my eyes‚ and in my smile. This immediately drew me in. From that
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Well‚ in my case‚ band has been the one thing I would look forward doing since I first witnessed my sister pick up her own flute and play her first tune. Band‚ in middle school‚ was a hobby that I truly treasured because it wasn’t your typical core class. This class‚ notably‚ enhanced the need to utilize my analytical skills‚ engage my mind‚ and run free with my covert musical self. After graduating middle school‚ starting marching band over the summer before my freshman year was my cloud of bewilderment
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To begin with‚ when I was a little girl I lived in South Central Los Angeles‚ California with my two parents whom the names are Arturo Ferreiro and Cynthia Contreras. We all lived in one small pink house with my grandmother named Yolanda Contreras. My parents worked so hard to move from the ghetto. My mother once said to my grandmother “ I don’t want my daughter to distinguish the negativity.” There were so many crimes around our area and honestly‚ it was dense to walk around the neighborhood without
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I’ve been using technology ever since I was in elementary. And as I grew older it became a bigger and bigger part of my life. When I reached middle school‚ technology was part of my daily life‚ using it for homework‚ entertainment‚ and research. During this time‚ I’ve become and avid gamer‚ I own all consoles and a game collection big enough to bankrupt a small country. Though‚ this became a problem. Because I like games so much‚ I always wanted to get new ones. And games these days are
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Once upon a time I lived a semi normal life. The last day I lived that life was Thanksgiving of 2002. The people that made up my semi normal life was Papa‚ Nannie‚ Mom‚ Aunt Jodi‚ and me. As you may of concluded it was Thanksgiving‚ but this one wasn’t like the rest. We were going to Chicago to my Aunt Jackie and Uncle John’s house to have Thanksgiving dinner. The thing is we would of had dinner at Nannie and Papa’s‚ but a little less than a year before Papa was diagnosed with lung cancer. Lung
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that my family grew up wealthy. I grew up privileged because my family valued books and knowledge. My childhood was spent the majority of the time at the library and I was constantly surrounded by books at home. My whole family’s lives were in books and they were found to be an oddity because they treasured books over material items. Growing up in this environment‚ I mimicked their philosophy. When my mom came home with a wagon filled with books‚ I was walking next to her with a stack in my arms
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glacier treks and overnighters at least. As a hobby or extracurricular activity‚ it’s probably my biggest passion. So much that I found that writing of them is like having the opportunity to do each one over again. Once upon a time I set forth a book project‚ a story telling‚ you might say‚ of all my treks including the ascent of five mountains. However‚ I lacked the confidence of presenting a way to share my stories of me being the key subject. Eventually the project lost steam and fell to the wayside
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I grew up in Freedom‚ North Dakota as Marissa Frank. It was a dull November day‚ when my life would change forever. I was in the middle of a test in science class when a large man came into the classroom. He whispered something to the teacher and then asked me to go into he hallway with him. He told me that I would need to bring all my stuff with me down to the police station and that they had a few questions to ask me. I sat in an office for about twenty minutes waiting for someone to come in
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pull hard at each other‚ battling one another for the complete claim of me. However‚ I remain stuck in between the two‚ not knowing which culture has conquered me. September 6th‚ 2006 was the day my brother‚ and I left our mother and home in Ghana to come to America. After a long 12 hour flight‚ I met my father for the first time. It was an unforgettable moment. He was taller than I imagined and had a brilliant smile. His eyes sparkled with delight as he helped us carry our bags. He asked us a plethora
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