up in a rural community‚ there was little diversity where i was from. From racist slurs to actually yelling at a minority‚ i could tell there was a problem at the age of 6. When my mom and I moved after my parents divorce‚ we lived in a primarily black community. Over the next six years of my life‚ I did not only expand my knowledge‚ but I learned how to accept and embrace others whom were different than myself. When I was
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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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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’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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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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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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Life is an interesting journey full of unforeseen situations that can alter our initial plans. During my years in high school my parents always reminded me of the importance of aspiring to be the best I could be and‚ as a result‚ I would be able to accomplish anything. I took their words to heart. I studied hard‚ performed extremely well and finished with a 3.5 GPA and in the top 25 percent of my high school class. I was the recipient of many scholarships and awards and was part of many extracurricular
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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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he smile and said thank you for accepting my invitation. I brought you here to show you how much I appreciate you for working the extra hours and allow me to get paid for it. Few people would work another’s shifts and gave them the hours. That was the only way he could go through his training and still keep his pay. I had not minded doing that for him. While we sat in the restaurant he thanked me repeatedly for helping him. Then he told me about his life. He came to New York
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