When I was younger about 12 years of age in Brooklyn‚ New York I felt like my life was coming to an end by a very neglectful man driving. It was a late night‚ mother and I were visiting my aunt who lived in Brooklyn while we’re living in Long Island‚ New York. We left at 3:00pm on a Friday when I came home from school. We took the N22 bus to the train station and when coming of the bus it smelled disgusting. It smelled like urine because well we were underground and there were many homeless people
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! Growing up in a war torn country‚ I always dreamed of living in the United States. Every person in our small town talked about how exciting and full of opportunity America was. Play dates‚ cartoons‚ and trips to Disney land made the top of every little kid’s birthday wish. Unlike most children‚ my birthday party did not consist of bouncy houses‚ stacks of presents‚ and a princess cake. Burning buildings‚ solders‚ and panicked refugees were the highlight of my birthday party. Giving up the only
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create a better life for our family. Growing up here I found myself becoming easily accustomed to the American ways‚ but even though my family and I may have gotten used to that way of life we never lost sight of our Ukrainian culture. When I think about it‚ the best way that I can describe what my culture is like would be a jigsaw puzzle. When making a puzzle one begins with connecting as many pieces to each other until the exact pieces are found and locked together. Finding the exact pieces that
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“You should still be sleeping.”He tried again He gave up trying to talk to me about an hour in the drive. The car finally came to a stop and I rushed out and to the road. He looked shocked but soon recovered as he ran after me. He soon caught me. He slugs me over his shoulder and carried me in the side. He sat me on the couch and
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Home Inspirational essay on friends and friendship. Ang Kwento ng Isang FA Submitted by joenard on February 20‚ 2010 -2:15pm. Filipino | Fiction | Inspirational essay on friends and friendship. Body: Ang Kwento ng Isang (FA _FAILURE ANALYST‚ negosyante‚ estudyante o nanganagrap ) By request 022010 Author: Joenard Opalsa Author’s Bio/Notes: "Minsan nasabi ko malalathala din mga sinusulat ko‚ hindi lamang puso ko ang makakarinig at utak ko ang masasaling kundi kapwa ko manunulat na
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Lorena Bernal Narrative Essay Eng 100 Year Up Changed My Life Change is an emanating part of life that takes on a life of its own. Change has withstood the test of time. It is an understanding of yourself; a visual manifestation of blindness. It is both conscious and subconscious and are the very keys to success‚ and failure. It dictates decisions‚ words‚ perception and life. Yet‚ what influences change me? I had feelings of discouragement when my last grandparent passed away. For me the discouragement
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I woke with a start‚ my alarm clock screaming at me to get up before the sun. I slid myself out of bed‚ groggily dodging the mountains of boxes precariously placed about my room. I truly believe that I was not ready for such a big move‚ or what it would do to me as a freshly graduated 6th grader. I avoided everyone on that too-early morning‚ not quite brave enough to say goodbye. I was feeling some odd mixture of excitement and distress because I was excited to see me mom again after 3 months‚ but
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When my new classmates discovered I was from Buoyei‚ they were curious about the world I came from such as what we ate‚ wore‚ and where we lived. They treated me like an alien. My ethnic identity brought many frustrations‚ but it also inspires me to think of ways to contribute and build a more diverse
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first day of school I wondered how my day would transpire. I was ecstatic to be immediately greeted by one of my friends that I met during my freshman year. It wasn’t so much that it was him that made me ecstatic‚ it was more of him being a familiar face and me being reassured. His name was Dwayne. Dwayne and I had a like and a hate type of relationship. Some days we would be the best of friends‚ and other days we’d figuratively be at each other’s jugular vein. This was mostly because of our very
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brush and begin my daily ritual. As I brush my hair I glimpse through the mirror and focus on my sister. She has returned to her bed and lies in her mismatched pajamas under the blanket doing who knows what on her tablet after she has complained about me not being prepared for school yet.
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