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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My father inspired me to step into a world outside of my comfort zone. During high school‚ I was known as an introverted person who did not get along with others as much. I was afraid of being a part of a large crowd simply because I knew that fitting in would be impossible. However‚ by the time I became a junior‚ the daily life that I had lived routinely suddenly began to change. With the recent news about racial violence‚ such as the deaths of Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown‚ I started to feel
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from my mother’s grasp‚ I charged. With arms flailing and chubby legs fluttering beneath me‚ I was the ferocious two year old rampaging through Costco on a Saturday morning. My mother’s eyes widened in horror as I jettisoned my churro; the cinnamonsugar rocket gracefully sliced its way through the air while I continued my spree. I sprinted through the aisles‚ looking up in awe at the massive bulk products that towered over me. Overcome with wonder‚ I wanted to touch and taste‚ to stick my head
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hard things have gotten I’ve found a way to find the good. My identity is a fighter. Divorce. Divorce has taken up a lot of my life‚ having it happening with almost everyone I care about. My mom went through it with my dad. My grandma went through it with my moms father. My grandpa went through it with his ex-wife. My grandma on my father’s sides parents
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