Wait a second!
More handpicked essays just for you.
More handpicked essays just for you.
Personal cultural identity
Personal cultural identity
Personal cultural identity
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
Recommended: Personal cultural identity
The sun shone on the lake, reflecting across the calm waters. Families were enjoying their afternoon as gentle winds passed by. Children stumbled on the sand and shallow waters as they tried to catch tadpoles with their buckets. My dad, little sister, and I were all set to take on our first wilderness adventure; canoeing across a lake. I began to imagine myself steering the boat. Left side. Push, push, push. Right side; push, push, push. Repeating this in my mind and moving the paddle through the air, I felt confident. We climbed in canoe, and with a slight push from the back, we were off.
Similar to the motions of the paddle in the water, I continue to push through various obstacles life has thrown at me. Incorporating two cultures in a community that is predominantly one race always proved to be a challenge. As a child, I would struggle to find activities and friends that were the “right fit” for me. I would find myself in a constant battle having my traditions and atmosphere around me clashing with the ones of my friends. Trying to harmonize with my friends at school made it difficult to appreciate the wonderful culture I was born into.
…show more content…
Turning my head, I see boulders encompassing the entire lake, creating a barrier between the lake and shore.
The algae-covered boulders grabbed our canoe. We were stuck. My hands began to sweat and an intense weight dropped on my chest. My heart sped up. Hikers looked down and began to shout instructions at us. My sister began to cry and my dad and I panicked. My frustration started to build as my mind was in a constant battle of what to handle first: my sister, the hikers, or the situation. Mustering all the strength that I had, I pushed against the rocks with my legs almost turning the canoe over and getting my legs drenched in the
process. Constantly battling between pleasing others and doing things for myself, I consider myself to be a unique individual, one who always strives to find the “right” thing to do. I always find myself trying to bring a smile or a laugh to a person’s day regardless of my own emotions. Trying to manage the many requests of others creates a barricade between my own feelings and actions. I start to neglect my own conscience and diminish the emotions that have the power to ruin my day. This is yet another obstacle life has thrown on me. Like the boulders creating a barrier between the lake and shore, I always find myself silencing my own emotions in the hope of pleasing others. I could hear my heart rapidly undulate as the thought that we may never get out creeped into my mind. I had no control. It was in this moment that I realized that I must maintain a level mind and a sense of determination. Remembering the instructor’s words, I push the paddle on both sides and count. I push through the water. I push all the hurdles and setbacks behind me. As I reflect on this experience, I realize how it changed my perspective on my past obstacles. Through this experience, I realized that I do not have to “fit into” anything. I appreciate the culture that I have built for myself, harmonizing the traditions of my family and creating a balanced environment. While I constantly strive to please others and find the “right” thing to do, I remove the barrier of silencing my own emotions and instead, do what is good for myself. The things that qualify as a challenge or setback in life is if I learned from the experience and something new about myself. I pushed myself to learn from this canoeing experience because it allowed me to find an inner strength of resilience and determination that I never knew I had before.
In this story, Will remembers that his mother chose to rent a row-boat instead of a canoe because “a row-boat was safer” (233). The irony strikes the reader when their row-boat collides with a rock and springs a leak, causing the children to fear for their lives. In the more current story, Harlen and Luise convince Will to purchase a canoe so that they can all go boating together. In the inaugural trip, though, the canoe began to take on water. After Harlen urges him to start bailing water, Will realizes that “[they] didn’t have anything to bail with” (235), and soon, the canoe flips, sending Harlen and Will into a stream of rapids....
Here I thought I was doing so well, because I had canoed various times before, and I had walked through equally difficult vegetation. So why was I so upset? Why was I so damaged, and in so much pain? I wanted to scream! Instead I let out my frustrations on the mosquitoes, swatting them away while my canoe partner fought his way back into the canoe.
Surprisingly, our parents had beaten us to the top and we all stopped in awe, mesmerized by the great waterfall in front of us. My mouth felt like the Sahara desert. I vividly remember reaching for the chilling water bottle that hid underneath the tons of clothes stuffed in my father’s black backpack to quench my thirst. I took off my beaten down shoes and stinky socks covered in dirt from the trail and blood from the blisters on my feet and dove into the refreshing lake. After swimming through the lake for a few seconds, I abruptly jumped out of the freezing water. My toes turned into a blue that reminded me of the blueberry muffins from breakfast that morning. My body shivered as I exited the lake and threw on a warm towel over my shoulders. Gradually my body heat increased, escaping the risk of hypothermia. At that point, I just wanted to go home. My family and I gathered all our belongings and I dragged my energyless body into the large, gray shuttle. The shuttle smelled of sweat from previous passengers. It drove us down a rough, bumpy trail, causing my tall father to constantly slam his head on the roof of the car. After we finally got back to our hotel, we all let off a sigh of
As I inched my way toward the cliff, my legs were shaking uncontrollably. I could feel the coldness of the rock beneath my feet when my toes curled around the edge in one last futile attempt at survival. My heart was racing like a trapped bird, desperate to escape. Gazing down the sheer drop, I nearly fainted; my entire life flashed before my eyes. I could hear stones breaking free and fiercely tumbling down the hillside, plummeting into the dark abyss of the forbidding black water. The trees began to rapidly close in around me in a suffocating clench, and the piercing screams from my friends did little to ease the pain. The cool breeze felt like needles upon my bare skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps. The threatening mountains surrounding me seemed to grow more sinister with each passing moment, I felt myself fighting for air. The hot summer sun began to blacken while misty clouds loomed overhead. Trembling with anxiety, I shut my eyes, murmuring one last pathetic prayer. I gathered my last breath, hoping it would last a lifetime, took a step back and plun...
Without delay, I sunk right back in the water. My doubts began coming back to me, making me realize I might of been over my head on this one, but I persisted. I reached surface again and began swimming towards the rightmost shore. It wasn’t the best journey, as I kept bobbing in and out of the water, but I managed to reach the shore. The moment I got stood back on my own feet I stood back on them as a new man; I enjoyed the danger I just experienced, besides drinking a hefty amount of lake
Her spry, Timberland-clad foot planted itself upon a jagged boulder, motionless, until her calf muscles tightened and catapulted her small frame into the next stride. Then Sara's dance continued, her feet playing effortlessly with the difficult terrain. As her foot lifted from the ground, compressed mint-colored lichen would spring back into position, only to be crushed by my immense boot, struggling to step where hers had been. My eyes fixated on the forest floor, as fallen trees, swollen roots, and unsteady rocks posed constant threats for my exhausted body. Without glancing up I knew what was ahead: the same dense, impenetrable green that had surrounded us for hours. My throat prickled with unfathomable thirst, as my long-empty Nalgene bottle slapped mockingly at my side. Gnarled branches snared at my clothes and tore at my hair, and I blindly hurled myself after Sara. The portage had become a battle, and the ominously darkening sky raised the potential for casualties. Gritting my teeth with gumption, I refused to stop; I would march on until I could no longer stand.
As I stepped out of the car and onto the road I looked up to see the peak of the Pillbox Hike, also known as the Ka’iwa Ridge Trail. The sun was still hiding behind the Ko’olau Mountains, which encircled the town of Kailua and the windward side of O’ahu. Back home on the Big Island I had a lot of things on my mind such as, school, work and family problems. It was the summer before senior year and even though it wasn’t months from now I was already stressed about it; the schoolwork, socializing and senioritis. There was also the thought of having to go back to work with my unbearable manager and the piles of bills my parents were having trouble with. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to face the responsibilities, I just wanted to get away, even if it was only for a week, so I came to O’ahu. Here, I was with my older sister Jossevey. She was only 3 years older than me but more of a kid at heart. She was the reason we were about to hike this long trail, even though I’ve never really hiked before.
One sunny summer day my dad, Eliza, and I went fishing. We walked down into the thick woods following the muddy trail. We glided through a sea of weeds and approached the creek. With our old creek shoes on we stepped eagerly into the shallow, murkey water. The smell of fish and animals hug in the air. The cold water sloshed against my legs as we headed to our old fishing spot. You never knew what memories you would come back with.
Fear and frustration filled my mind as I desperately tried to stay afloat, cold waves crashing on top of me, sluicing me further and further away from the sanctuary of land. With half of my body frozen I feebly tried to swim against the tide with little success but with every kick, I could feel a sharp piercing pain on my left leg. With the steady and agonising lapse of time synchronised with my sense of ever increasing woe, the weight of the water weighing me down felt worse than it most likely physically was. My chest caved in and my lungs felt empty. Gasping for air, I could see the beach receding in the distance. The more I fought against the waves the more I was dragged to the deep sea. I tried to yell for help but all that spewed forth
Living in a small town, out in the country, and with nothing to do, we made our own fun growing up. We used to go on “adventures” and explore my parent’s land. One day after it had snowed a ton, we bundled ourselves up and went walking around. We have a creek that runs through the woods in our backyard. The creek was frozen solid, or at least that’s what we thought. We had been skating back and forth with our boots on, when the ice cracked. The creek wasn’t very deep but compared to my height at the time, it engulfed me. My head never went under but it was a struggle to get me out. But somehow, my brother did it. The walk home that day was so bad and oh so
I didn’t even know where we were going just that I filled my suitcase with clothes and put in it the trunk of the car. I got in the leather covered car seats, with my trusty pillow and blanket. Before I knew it I was out, I woke up about…an hour or so later. I looked out of the window the grass blowing in the wind, the sky as blue as a lake not a cloud in the sky. I sat up right “dad where are we going” the car stayed silent for a couple minutes then I heard the deep voice of my dad “where going to Spring Lake.” It sounded nice I thought hopefully there’s a lake and that’s not just the name of the park. “How long until we get there?” I heard the squeak of my mother’s high pitched voice “soon sweetheart, soon.” I decided I should sleep, since my parents hadn’t been helpful in telling me when we would be getting to Spring Lake. Another hour later I felt the lurch of the car and the seatbelt tighten around my waist, I sat up and stretched my arms, I noticed the car was parked and the engine of the car is off. In front of us is a two story cabin, just like Lincoln logs, I unbuckled my seat belt and stepped out of the car...
Misty had been at the Boundary waters for the past sixth months and had two more months to go until she could return home. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes and a pretty smile, myself and the group of girls I was with thought she was pretty disregarding the fact that under her arm laid a bush of hair that even a razor couldn’t help. Misty taught us many things we needed to know before we embarked on our journey. She taught us how to control a canoe by showing us the different types of strokes you could do with your paddles to guide you in different directions, how to set up a tent and take it down, and how to carry a canoe on our shoulders.In the beginning i was excited, I felt i knew everything I needed to know for this five night stay in
On Sunday, February 18th, I spent 8 hours without technology. To keep myself from reaching for my phone and wasting my time on various apps, I put my phone in a charger station near my kitchen. I noticed that I had a lot more free time to do chores and homework. Without having my phone on me at all times, I found myself observing my surroundings and being a lot more productive. My schedule on Sunday consisted of going to church, cleaning my room and bathroom, taking my dog to the dog park, finishing all my homework and catching up in school, going to skating practice for an hour and a half and volunteering to help make props for the ice show, baking snickerdoodles, relaxing by reading a few chapters in my book, and going sledding/snow tubing. At the
The waves were crashing against the shore. The ocean was like a two year old child, even when it was calm, you could still feel the energy lingering in each wave. It was peaceful. The kind of peaceful that causes you to stop everything and just breathe."Isabella" a voice called out. Turning away from the peaceful simplicity of the ocean, I searched for the voice. "Isabella" the voice called again, this time with growing urgency. "Isabella Lynn, Get out of bed now, you are going to be late for school" I then recognized the voice of my mother, steady and persistent. Similar to the thundering waves of the ocean. Regretfully, I tore myself from the comfort of my dreams to face the bitterness of reality. Swinging my pale, long legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet made contact with the cold hard floor. The sensation sent tingles through my whole body and I was tempted to slide into the warmth of my blankets once more. Lingering on the edge of the bed only a moment longer, I stood and began to get ready...
It was a crisp Spring Saturday afternoon in Pictured Rocks, Munising Michigan. The trees were budding, the birds were chirping. We arrive at camp, unload the quad from the truck. We put our gear into the log cabin right in the middle of nowhere. Cj, a wild, funny kid my age, and I, a adventurous, 14 year old kid, had to build a fire in the wood stove to warm the bitter cold cabin. Meanwhile our dads go for a walk around the cabin to check for animal or human invasions. Chris, a ambitious worker, and outdoor smart man, got the rods and bait. My dad, Tim, a jokey stream fisherman was in for a treat going to the big lake, got the drinks.