As a child, imagining what you were going to be when you grew up was probably the coolest thing you could think of. You wanted to be the next president or the next person to walk on the moon or even a schoolteacher. The possibilities were endless! Of course every child picked something they though was outstanding and they never knew how much time and dedication it would take to become those things. They simply picked that career because that’s what they wanted to be.…
I appreciate receiving constructive feedback, since this criticism is valuable for me improving from my mistakes. Recently, I had been a leader of a group with whom I had worked on developing a new soda brand, for our entry in the Coca Cola sponsored, World Series of Innovation Competition. Being leader of this team, I encouraged my team to be open and give me their best suggestions. In this process I received positive criticism for my approach in leadership, feedback that I can apply to become a better leader. My group informed me that I took too much initiative to complete the unfinished tasks of some participants, rather than encouraging them to do this work themselves.…
To the ones who believe asking, “What are you?” is a valid conversation starter, I am multiracial and proud, but to simplify my ethnicities to others when asked, I identify myself as Asian. I was stereotyped because of how we are perceived in media and society. I spent years cowering in my own skin because others made me believe I was not Asian because of the size of my eyes, the color of my hair, and my personal interests. I was ashamed of what I looked like since I was convinced it embodied who I am as a person.…
Everyone has pet-peeves. The one thing that just drives them crazy to the point they can't do anything except focus on ignoring it. My biggest pet peeve is lied to. I absolutly hate when people lie to me or withhold the truth from me in any way. Recently, I have had my best friend lie to me multiple times because she was embarrassed or because she didn't want me to get mad.…
“Soledad Brother” by George Jackson seemed to be another boring traumatized little kid story. But as soon as I started to read it I started getting more interested because I could relate to George Jackson . The reason i can relate to him is because of my mom because i too had problems with my mom she thought white people were better. They were smarter if you didn't know how to speak english you were dumb. That wasn't a right way and she would always make take classes…
Flaws: Internal and External The day I found my rash, I did not know it would be a life long struggle. I remember my family telling me that it was just a rash and that it would go away, it never did. It may not seem like a significant problem, but at 7 years old it was. This led me to see that everyone has their flaws, big or small.…
My immediate family took the necessary classes to become foster parents so we would not have to go through that turmoil. Some of my family members thought that when I got older, I would be just like my mother. If I listened to every comment that was made for my defeat, instead of deciding within myself that failure was not an option. I looked at my mother as an example of what not to do. My mother had lost her identity and had no motivation to get it…
My favorite mistake would have to be when I totaled my car. Sometimes you think that this is the worst day of my life. You make such a big mistake, and think my life is over. That was me 9 years ago. I had the day off of work.…
One year later my mom marries a guy older than her about fifteen years old, but he looks younger than age. He is a US citizen, he has a son younger than me three years old. He is a nice guy, and I have no problem of him and my mom getting together. Middle of my seventh grade, all the sudden I and my mom travel to the US to live with my stepdad. Soon after I start to go school at Davis Middle School, and everything are so new to me unlike anything I could think or imagine in my head, and one thing; that is my biggest problem to me is language, I have no idea what people are talking nor anyone could understand me I feel so lonely, and different to other people.…
One of the stereotypes that may exist about a person that spends a significant amount of their free time reading is that they have introverted personalities and isolate themselves from society. However, in my experience, avid readers are superior conversationalists and use their time reading to better connect to the outside world. When I began building a library of books and spending an increased time reading during middle school, I wanted to absorb as much knowledge as I could. I certainly would have qualified as an introvert then, but over time, my passion for reading has led to sharing and connecting with others in ways that would not have existed for a non-reader. My bookshelves hold wildly different styles of books, each influenced by…
Growing up, I noticed, when approached with conflict, my sisters and my mother would often state that they did not want to talk about it or would simply leave the room. I now have a phrase for this: the exit response. For us, the exit response was always temporary. If the problem was serious, it would eventually be brought back up; if it wasn’t, then things usually got better on its own. While my dad is often the first to use the voice response, I have noticed that my dad often chooses the loyalty response, too.…
The phone rang, I got up to answer it quickly, like I was running the marathon because I knew it was Jackie. Although I knew who it was, what came next I wasn’t prepared for. “Joe, Joe, help me,” cried Jackie helplessly on the phone. I tried to ask her where she was but by the time the words came out of my mouth she hung up the phone. She was supposed to come over, but now she needs my help and I don’t know what to do.…
A world of insecurities, loss of self-worth, and no self-discipline. Spiraling downhill to an endless pit of self-loathing and calories. Where was the control? Where was my life headed? Being over two hundred pounds at just seventeen is no joke.…
My junior year of high school was in my mind full of injustices, some petty, some not at all. There were a few standouts, one regarding some of my best friends betraying me completely and lying to get themselves out of any trouble with the police. Another, being forced by my english teacher on the fourth day of school to rewrite an essay that was in my mind amazing just because she didn’t like my style. And then there was getting a yellow card in soccer for getting into a little skirmish with a kid who slide tackled me from behind. Perhaps dwelling or complaining about this injustice of getting a yellow card is petty and in the referee’s mind was completely justified but in my mind it was and is absurd.…
A Stab in the Heart I was hurt. Thud, I feel to my knees, the pain was so intense, . It was as if I was stabbed by a knife. My heart tightened from the pain. It started to get blurry from the tears in my eyes.…