Personal Narrative: My First Experience

As a child growing up in Rhode Island, the smallest state in the Union, the idea of a vast planet brimming with civilization and culture was more like something out of a fairy tale than it was reality. So, when my father announced that we would be leaving the country to go to Scotland, the home of his and my ancestors, my world began to expand at a rapid pace. This trip could not have been timed more perfectly. The summer of 2007 marked the end of fourth grade, my first year at Saint Mary Academy Bay View. After six years of crippling bullying at my old school, my parents had finally decided to send me to the all-girls Catholic school. Although fourth grade was not as bad as the years prior, it was not much better. Even before the age of ten, I had my first encounter with depression and what I later realized to be social anxiety. Even though I was no longer a victim, I was — for lack of a better word — numb. While I met a few people at Bay View, I did not really have friends. For the most part, I spent my time in solitude or at swim practice, one of my only relatively safe havens. There I was comfortable, happy, and worry-free, unlike at school or in my daily life. …show more content…
The story I am told is that my dad took me in his arms the very moment after I was born and said “Fàilte mo nighean,” which means “welcome my daughter.”At age sixteen now, I have been immersed in Scottish culture all my life. From the music, to the language, to father-daughter genealogy lessons, this culture has always been a part of me. My father used to tell me stories of the “stamping ground,” where our family was originally from. We originated in a sea town called Morar, and eventually we migrated to Nova Scotia before coming to America four generations ago. My dad, who had dedicated a portion of his life to our lineage, had managed to trace a direct line to the 1400s. So, naturally, being told that we were going to Scotland was a big deal for me as a