This is the area where I rest my head. I'm not giving in to calling this "home" because home is where the heart is. I live in the "court district" of downtown Los Angeles. With the influx of the Yuppies, however, it is now called the "historic core," We are standing on the corner of Sixth and Broadway. On the south side of the street heading east there are only two office buildings, yet there are many shops. The first is a jewelry shop. Walking past, we find two clothing stores that sell inexpensive women's clothing. There is a nearby market owned by a brother and sister from Iran: Ben and Miriam. When I do purchase there, I often haggle with Ben and he will come down on the price of the item in question. I'm more acquainted with Ben than his sister since he, like me, is something of a jokester. Besides, he is much more honest than his younger sister who is so shrewd she would snatch the nickels from a dead man's eyes!
Leaving the market we pass a gated alleyway and a little hole-in-the-wall of a store owned by a Korean family. I normally purchase breath mints and gum there, but that is all. They sell little knick knacks and odds and ends, but their main source of income is alcohol--they sell enough to get a small country drunk.
Five more paces and we are at the lobby entrance of a residential building where I have lived since my parole, but that is another essay. As we pass the lobby we come to the Alta Med Health Center, manned by an extremely helpful and pretty woman named Rosa. When I have the time, I drop by to shoot the breeze and trade jokes and anecdotes with her. Right next to the health center is a shoe store owned by an aged Chinese couple, still trying to hold on to their long gone youth. Both dress fashionably y...
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...r refurbished goods. Reaching the corner there is a coffee shop, owned by an old Korean woman. When I began my first semester at LATTC I would stop there and grab a cup of Joe. After a few weeks of seeing me on a constant basis, she began to question my coming and going. I explained to her, "I am a student." To which she replied (in broken English), "You good boy". Being diplomatic, I attempted to explain the politics of referring to a grown black man as "boy". Either not understanding or not caring, she chose to continue to refer to me as boy, so I stopped patronizing her shop.
This ends our tour through Hell. It's funny. I kind of like this area because it reminds me of New York, but it lacks that "savoir-faire." It's more like "New York meets the third world", or what would have happened had the Spanish, and not the English, taken New Amsterdam from the Dutch.
I am an Asian with yellow skin very differ with Staples's skin color, but I still was discrimination by some people surrounding me. I remember the first year I lived in America, I was in Middle School, eighth grade; I never forget the day I get in a school bus, everybody: Black, White, Asian, they placed their backpacks on empty seats, because they did not want me to sit with them. I went through all seats and looked around; I was lucky, there was only one back seat left for me in a corner, but when I stepped close to having a sit, a white young girl said, “This seat is taken.” All of them laughed very l...
In a society of protagonist superheroes within books and televisions all across the world, what makes a real hero? Is it leadership, determination, courage, dedication, or conviction? To all, Dorothy Day is all of the above. To many, she is a saint; a woman of true selflessness, who compassionately put the lives of the broken before her own. She is the icon of the kind of leader that everyone else, anyone else, can be, not by changing other people but by changing themselves (Chittister). Throughout her life, Dorothy Day was a herald to the church, a leader to the state, and an advocate for the poor.
In the early years of my life, adapting to the foreign customs of America was my top priority. Although born in America, I constantly moved back and forth from Korea to the US, experiencing nerve-racking, yet thrilling emotions caused by the unfamiliarity of new traditions. Along with these strange traditions, came struggles with accepting my ethnicity. Because of the obvious physical differences due to my race, the first question asked by the students in elementary school was, “Are you from China?” These inquiries were constantly asked by several of American students until middle school which transformed to “You must be good at math” referencing the stereotypical intellect that Asian are perceived to have. Through continuous insult on my Asian heritage, I began to believe and later hate the person I was due to criticism made by teenagers which I started to see true despite all the lies that was actively told. This racial discrimination was a reoccurring pattern that
Jazz is a treasure to American culture, which originally came from New Orleans of South part of America in 19th century. It’s a special music because it contains changeable rhythm and improvisational performance. But what makes jazz so special in 1920s is that Jazz could not only be performed by an individual but also could be performed by a group of people. This music performance style shows important things about American society and culture itself.
Marie’s grandparent’s had an old farm house, which was one of many homes in which she lived, that she remembers most. The house was huge, she learned to walk, climb stairs, and find hiding places in it. The house had a wide wrap around porch with several wide sets of stairs both in front and in back. She remembers sitting on the steps and playing with one of the cats, with which there was a lot of cats living on the farm...
One of the employees greeted me with a smile and asked how I was doing. Instead of just smiling back and saying I fine, I gave her a thumbs up and nodded my head in exaggerated movement. She responded by giving me a shocked look and then awkwardly smiling until i left. Inside Macy’s, i was looking at homecoming dresses and needed a fitting room. I snuck up behind another employee and asked very loudly where the fitting rooms were. SHe jumped a little and then turned around. I think she thought i was deaf because she pointed in the direction of the fitting rooms and kept loudly repeat that they were in the corner over where she was pointing. At the outlets I went to Nike and the employee greeted me by asking how my day was and I went up to him and patted him on the back, while telling him i had a good day. He didn’t respond to this, instead he kept smiling normally and greeting the people behind me. As i walking to another store, a lady standing outside said hello and I stopped and stuck my hand out. I have her a handshake and without staying anything, i left. She looked a bit confused when i left. For my last awkward greeting, I went to American Eagle and i was looking at some jeans. There was a lady and her daughter standing beside me and without looking at them, I said hello and asked them how their day was. They both looked at each other and the mom said they were doing good. Then they
Min, Pyong Gap. Caught in the Middle: Korean Merchants in America's Multiethnic Cities. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996.
It was my first year at the most venerable institution in the world, and my high-school dreams had been achieved. Yet, that fall, I was feeling empty inside. As I drowned my sorrows in a latte at Au Bon Pain near the "T" entrance, I noticed a large crowd gathering outside. I later learned that a short time before, an undergraduate running to the co-op had carelessly knocked a homeless man to the ground. As I looked up from my latte, I saw a homeless man crawling around the sidewalk, yelling something about being
One Saturday morning, while other teens were probably sleeping in, I woke up early to get ready for my first day of Korean school. My mother had gracefully accepted my urge to learn Korean a few weeks before and enrolled me in a Korean school located at a nearby high school. As I arrived, I could feel the warm sunlight shining in my face while I saw other children who were definitely younger than me scurrying around and playing in the quad. My mom and I stepped into the office and met with the director. He was an older gentleman who looked experienced. They conversed in Korean, while I was questioning myself deciding if this was the right choice. Several minutes later they finished and my mom whispered in my ear, "I will pick you up at one when your first lesson ends." I waved and then director told me to go to room five. I did not know what to expect as I was finding the room, still deciding to back out at the last minute. This was what I wanted and I had to go on with it. For what seemed like a long time I found the room and gently opened it to see what was in store for my new skill.
Ultimately, jazz had a profound effect on America during the 1920s. It fostered a change away from strict, rigid thinking and promoted a new unity in America, attracting blacks and whites alike. Playing behind the era’s anti-prohibition crime and its radical changes, not only for women, but as society as a whole, jazz became synonymous with America, with its ideals, uniqueness, and modernism. Undeniably, jazz in the Roaring Twenties was
I looked around, the room had exposed pipes on the ceiling and the entire room smelled faintly of Clorox wipes. Around me girls and boys talked and caught up. The majority of them had apparently gone to Kindergarten together. While I was the new kid, the outsider. Seats were scarce. I looked for a familiar face, for some reason. I settled next to a girl with fiery red-orange hair. “Hi, I’m Halley.” She introduced herself. Her smile was the fake kind, seen in school pictures everywhere. I smiled and responded, “Hi, I’m Lorna. I just moved here from Texas.” Her smile became increasingly forced, “Um, cool.” She turned her body away from me. Ok, I though, sorry I offended you, I guess. In my head, I was sneering and thinking rude thoughts to no end. In class, however, I upheld my morals. I was silent for the rest of the
That day, mom took me to a shopping mall in the city of Taichung. At that time I was absolutely oblivious of my mother’s unconditional love. Let alone appreciating the goods she provided me. I often thought that I deserved everything I possessed and desired to have more. When the electronic door opened, the superb collections of various items and the proportional design of the interior fascinated me. I glazed, with half of my mouth opened,
After World War II, nuclear power became the world’s shining energy hope. Technically it is produced when neutrons split the nucleus of uranium atoms releasing heat which is used to boil water and produce the steam that drives a plant’s turbines. Nuclear...
Further, south on Barton Avenue, Fanny once a month stops at the Epicurean store craving for a small order besides a complementary treat from the buffet as she lives on a tight budget on such fancy food. Monday morning, when she enters the Epicurean deli shop she finds a display of freshly prepared colorful appetizers and entrees. She buys some fish with spicy Asian sauce to take out. As she exits, Tom, one of her residence’s neighbor runs into her in front of the store.
After a while of running, jogging, and walking, we reached Katache, a big city. It was 1.00 in the morning and people were going into offices, cars were going past, and the regular routine started. Since I left, this was the first time I thought of Ma. I actually didn’t want to think of her, for it would be too much pain, but I had to. She must have been very worried about me and Gleam disappearing. Did she see the note? Did she read it? If she did, what if she is coming to help? I don’t want her to face the same trouble. All of this fear, worry, and glimpse of hope crowded by brain. I didn’t even notice what I was doing until Gleam pushed me back. I was about the run into a tree.