Personal Narrative: My Racial Identity

411 Words1 Page

I never would have considered myself a typical minority when it came to my racial identity. I know what it takes to be successful, I play the oboe, and even though I come from a not so typical family background, that has never stopped me from continuing to strive in everything I put myself into. My mother and father came from a poor background but were able to overcome this poverty to make a better life for their children and themselves. They both lived in the projects and were not expected to graduate high school let alone attend college. Because of this, my parents have always talked to me how important an education is and I want to continue learning every single day. They have always encouraged me to do the things that I love to do, in

Show More
Related

  • Analysis Of Keepin It Real: School Success Beyond Black And White

    845 Words  | 2 Pages

    Minorities, African American and Latinos, in America are faced with challenges daily in white society. There are many obstacles minorities experience such as: being judged based on race, stereotyped, or worst being discriminated against by peers. Sadly, minorities can’t seem to escape to harsh realities society created. Citizens in the white society categorize humans by their race to socially construct the achievements and legitimate political goals. Minorities struggles with these goals due to the challenges they experience. The location of these challenges can occur in various places including on the job and/or at school. You may be under the impression that such challenges occurs within the adult minority groups. However, this applies to minority children as well. When the children are face with

    Read More

  • Identity Essay: My Cultural Identity, Is Haitian American

    1240 Words  | 3 Pages

    I wanted to wear brand clothes/shoes they did, I wanted to do my hair like them, and make good grades like them. I wanted to fit in. My cultural identify took a back seat. But it was not long before I felt black and white did not mix. I must have heard too many comments asking to speak Haitian or I do not look Haitian, but more than that, I am black, so I always had to answer question about my hair or why my nose is big, and that I talked white. This feeling carried on to high school because the questions never went away and the distance between me and them grew larger. There was not much action my family could take for those moments in my life, but shared their encounters or conversations to show me I was not alone in dealing with people of other background. I surrounded myself with less white people and more people of color and today, not much has

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative: I Am A Black Girl

    797 Words  | 2 Pages

    One of the most destructive forces that is destroying young black people in America today is the common cultures wicked image of what an realistic black person is supposed to look like and how that person is supposed to act. African Americans have been struggling for equality since the birth of this land, and the war is very strong. Have you ever been in a situation where you were stereotyped against?

    Read More

  • Intersectionality In My Life

    1737 Words  | 4 Pages

    I am an African, black female who grew up in a predominantly white environment around my living space, and attended a predominantly white private school. In relation to class, I have been fortunate and privileged enough to be placed in a living environment that allowed me to receive the best education,

    Read More

  • Fitting In?

    935 Words  | 2 Pages

    In conclusion growing up with an ethnic background was pretty hard; I did not get ridiculed for looking different or doing things differently. There was when I had to assimilate to be accepted in a new town because I did not want to be known as a nerd if I played with the Asian kids instead when I was at school I adapted and changed my beliefs and played with the White kids to feel accepted. But, the hardest part was not in the social atmosphere it comes when it came to my parents. My parents put up these social barriers to not allow me to expand out of my own race. Growing up I broke out of their chain and started to explore different friends and started to date people of other races.

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative Writing: How It Feels To Be Colored Me

    2729 Words  | 6 Pages

    As a kid, I didn’t understand what race meant or its implications. I was pretty much oblivious to it. Race meant getting some kids together and running a foot race. The one who made it to the end of the block won. I never felt that I was special because of my race. Nor did I feel discriminated against. Of course, I was sheltered from race and racism. I never knew any people of color because I grew up in an all-white, lower-to-middle-class blue-collar neighborhood. I never encountered someone of another race, and my parents made sure of it. I wasn’t allowed outside of our own neighborhood block, as my mother kept a strong leash on me. Not until I was much older did I wander outside the safety net of our all-white neighborhood.

    Read More

  • Diversity Statement - African American

    882 Words  | 2 Pages

    While I never knew my father, I did grow to know the challenges faced by African Americans. I first began to feel different when I transferred from public to private middle school. People began asking about my ethnicity for the first time in my life. Until this time, it had never seemed important. Although I had never been overly fond of my curly hair, it, along with other traits deemed too 'ethnic' looking, now became a source of shame. I had a few not so affectionate nicknames because of those curls. I was shocked to realize that people considered me different or less desirable because of these physical traits. Being turned away from an open house in my twenties was just as shocking as being ...

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative: Myself And My Cultural Identity

    415 Words  | 1 Pages

    Growing up as a first generation Chinese-American, I felt as if I was stranded in the void between two worlds, isolated and alone. At school, I hid my Chinese self and tried to be more ‘American’ in order to fit in. At home, I then carefully tucked away my American half and acted the dutiful Chinese son to please my parents. If Chinese and American were two planets, I was a vagabond flitting back and forth between them, unsettled and insecure, never quite belonging in either one.

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative: Identity

    1339 Words  | 3 Pages

    Identity-“Ones personal qualities.”Identiy is something only he or she can fully define. My uncle says I am affectionate,cheerful, and calm. My grandmother sees me as slim, pretty and sweet. My dad described me as perky, cheerful and happy, my mom says beautiful, gentle, and self-conscious. These adjectives describe me accurately, yet they are only abstract versions of me. Adjectives cannot begin to describe me and I aknowlege these descriptions for what they are, a condensed translation from my outward self to the world. It is impossible for anyone to understand me completely because nobody has experienced the things I have. My mother has never cherished a raggedy doll named Katie and my father never spent hours upon hours making collages and scrap books for his future children. My uncle never hid in the back of a pick-up-truck and traveled four hours to New York and my grandmother has never walked hours in the rain looking for the Queen of England. My identity is something only I can define.

    Read More

  • Compare And Contrast My Family Vs America

    183 Words  | 1 Pages

    My family is very different and has different views than most average American families. My family and I moved to the United States from Albania when I was the mere age of two. My parents didn’t speak any English when we landed in America. However, they strived for a better living situation for my brother and I, which I am thankful for every day. My parents didn’t expect me to do well in school and attend college so, they didn’t bother to take me to music classes or dance classes like other moms would do with their children. I would always be the child that didn’t fit in which in away forced me to do well in school. On the other hand I think my parents held me back from the opportunities I could’ve had. If they were to put me in piano classes

    Read More

  • Example Of A Diversity Statement

    469 Words  | 1 Pages

    Growing up in a lower middle class immigrant family, where neither one of my parents finished high school, it did not take long for me to realize that I was different and that I would have to work much harder than the rest of my friends who came from wealthy and educated families to reach the same goal. I learned at a very young age that things will never be simply handed to me; if I want something done, then I need to work with great determination in order to reach my goal. By furthering my education, I now know that working hard to reach my goal was not going to be enough but now being judged on the color of my skin and my background that I needed to work harder to add items to my resume which would help people overlook

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative - Race

    1229 Words  | 3 Pages

    Wait. Be still. Don't go over the line. Don't let go. Wait for it. "BANG!" My reactions were precise as I sprung out of the blocks. The sun was beating down on my back as my feet clawed at the blistering, red turf. With every step I took, my toes sunk into the squishy, foul smelling surface, as my lungs grasped for air. Everything felt the way it should as I plunged toward my destination. I clutched the baton in my sweaty palms, promising myself not to let go. My long legs moved me as fast as I could go as I hugged the corner of the line like a little girl hugging her favorite teddy bear. The steps were just like I had practiced. As I came closer to my final steps, my stomach started twisting and my heart beat began to rise. The different colors of arrows started to pass under my feet, and I knew it was time.

    Read More

  • Chorale Research Paper

    626 Words  | 2 Pages

    My family is small, since relocating both my sister and mother have passed on. I spent most of my adult life caring for my grandparents before they also transitioned. Only myself, my nephew, niece and their children remain. I was fortunate to grow up in a hard working family who valued education. My grandparents grew up in the south picking cotton, mother was the first member of our family to graduate from high school. I am the first with a college degree. During my valedictorian speech, I dedicated each of my BCC degrees to a family member who never had the opportunity to pursue a higher education.

    Read More

  • Personal Experience: My Single Day Stereotypes

    524 Words  | 2 Pages

    Growing up a white male didn’t give me the extra boost in life like many people may think. My childhood wasn’t great where I had two parents love eachother forever and ever. Instead when I was eight I had two parents who got divorced and resented eachother, forcing me to switch back and forth between houses. As I got older my parents didn’t magically become best friends agian either. They to this day still despise one another. When I turned sixteen I was forced to make the decision on which parent I would choose to live with full time. Choosing my mother was the hardest decision i’ve ever had to make. Being as I lived with parents that don’t believe in granting their children with anything but the necessities I had to purchase my own car if I wanted one. So I

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative: My African Identity

    533 Words  | 2 Pages

    On Monday, October 11, 1999, in a hospital in Nigeria, I was born. If questioned about the early part of my life, I would not be able to respond. I cannot recall memories of elementary school, let alone early childhood, everything was hazy. I was not born in the United States, but I have no memories from Nigeria. In my childhood, I felt separated from my African side, like I could not be called Nigerian and the only remnant of my African identity was my name. I felt on a similar level, what civil rights activist W.E.B. Du Bois, called the double consciousness, of how I did not feel like I could choose a side. My nationalities were in conflict because I was hesitant to accept the Nigerian culture, and I could not call myself an American. I would become apathetic when Nigeria was brought up in conversation. I was more attune with identifying myself as an American rather than being a Nigerian, I was afraid of claiming a nation that I did not belong to.

    Read More

More about Personal Narrative: My Racial Identity

Open Document