I closed my eyes and remembered the toughest moment of my life: when I got the news that a friend of mine had committed
I closed my eyes and remembered the toughest moment of my life: when I got the news that a friend of mine had committed
On 12-03-2015 at approximately 1745 hours I Officer Hildebrand, Officer Patrick Sullivan and Sgt. Joseph Harris were dispatched to 630 N D St. for report of an assault in progress. While en route Dispatch notified me saying the male individual assaulting the victim was Kevin Meyer. I had dealt with Kevin Meyer earlier in my shift. While driving East on West Gallatin I spotted Kevin 's pickup headed West on Gallatin.…
To live in a brand new place and feel at home is difficult, but to do it alone is much more difficult. I wander the streets constantly trying to find something or someone that can ground me to this place that I am now living in. Walking around these cobble stone streets. I constantly look around for something that reminds me of home. I try to align something from Florence like the bittersweet smell of coffee, the egg glazed pastries and the warm smell of fresh bread to my place at home.…
The home resembled a gothic Victorian home. It was well kept and had a beautiful garden. The sun was up high and my father decided to hide in the bushes just for as long as he could at least they would rest until they could travel again. My father needed help and he didn’t want to admit it to my already scared brother. After a few hours his life changed it was the moment he met my mother.…
“Shes coming back right?” a baffled 7 year old asks in response to the appalling news of her mother’s death. A vibrant imagination is accompanied by a crushing pain of reality that trails behind it ; I discovered this when I heard the words “no” . 10 years later, that conversation lingers in my head and holds not a cacophonous nor euphonious sound, but instead holds the neutral tone of reality, an alarm . As routine , at 6a.m., I hear a melodious alarm followed by the pitter-patter of my aunt who is getting ready for work.…
When I think about the boy who I was growing up, the young adult I am today, and the man I plan to be in the forthcoming years, one aspect of my life stands out to me far more radiantly than anything else: my culture, my skin, my identity as a Bangladeshi-American. There aren't many clubs or organization for Bangladeshi Americans such as myself. Make no mistake, there are certainly events for Bangladeshis living in the United states, many that I have attended due to various entreaties from my parents. These are event where the only language spoken is one that I barely speak (Bengali), the only music conversed about is that which I don't listen to or understand, and the only events discussed happen in another country that I have spent only a…
Where do I see myself five years from now? I haven’t ever been asked this question before so it never occurred to me to actually sit down and think about it. I’m seventeen years old so at my age kids don’t really think about the future and where we see ourselves five years ahead. I know for myself I am a live in the moment, looking for the next adventure type of person. Being asked this question really makes me slow down and think.…
Acres to Thank I am thankful I have a place to go, A place of my own. Where the stars shine bright in the dark, My mother explaining all to me. Where the water glistens in the sunlight, My father playing with me. Where the earth crunches under my feet,…
Lately the days feel like they are combining together. I cannot keep up with them. Next week is the week of finals, and I am so ready for them. I know I can do it. In all of my classes I am passing.…
People are dynamic and ever changing through time based on their different experiences. We all share this fluidity in our personalities by the way we see ourselves and the way the world perceives us. This is called our identity. Our identity is everything that makes us different and what ties us together in groups, clubs or even countries. I see myself as a very dedicated person.…
It was late one friday night, I was on my way home from my boyfriend's house in Amenia to my house in Ancram. I had done this drive a thousand times and never had an issue. I was doing my usual speed of 60 on all the roads so i could make it home in my normal 20 minutes when it was a typical 35 minute drive. Than my 20 minute drive turned into a trip to the emergency room, a totaled car, and some very unhappy parents. My typical drive changed when I decided to check my snapchat on a curvy back road while doing 60 mph when I should have been doing 30.…
Developing and describing my own background and identity is a lifelong process, which can be differ from one stage of to another. "Identities are the traits and characteristics, social relations, roles, and social group memberships that define who one is" (Oyserman, Elmore, & Smith, 2012, p. 69). My personal identities and roles are developed through by background experiences. I was born and raised in very small village of Nepal, where I did not have so much opportunity to enhance my knowledge, and skill. In addition, my parents were economically and educationally deprived, which did not allow me to develop my career very well; however, the natural characteristics of mine opened some possibilities to enhance my future as better than my parents.…
We used to play chicken cross the road, I don’t know why we started playing it, it might have been the adrenaline we had once we seen a car and knew that we had to get to the other side fast enough or we would get hurt. When everyone was together we used to play backyard soccer where rough housing was only for the more mature kids. I was the fourth of six kids, During my childhood we would move from county to county due to my situation. Although we would move place to place I had my fair share of good and bad memories from each place that shaped me into the person i am today. If you want to talk to someone there’s always someone in my family who will be there for you.…
Social identity is defined how we identify selves to other people. There was a time when I disagreed with my parents about my identity, how I present myself in our society. My parents identify themselves according to our religion/culture or where we are from. As an only child to my parents, when I was a kid, my parents used to decide everything about me. From the clothes I wear, the food I eat and the people I am in-group with.…
My memory of sitting in the corner of my room bawling my eyes out would never go away. It was a piece of me I have to live with and not be afraid of. I walked into the old rusted group home and got the fresh smell of wood. I saw some boys who looked older than me studying and a few younger kids playing blocks. It seemed happy but a feeling in me said this was a dark place.…
It was 1953 , here I am being brought into the home of multiple marriages, infidelities, mental illnesses, alcoholism and let’s not forget all of half-brothers and half-sisters that didn’t want to be there but had nowhere else to go. For me the first few years of life seemed very pleasant, but in the shadows lurked the demons which would crush my world and send my life into turmoil. By the time I was six years old my parents decided to divorce. With the divorce came the loss of home, love and security of which I knew. The walls came tumbling down around me I felt abandoned and afraid.…