My Personal Experience

Growing up, my parents sacrificed endlessly to ensure I would thrive in America; they were Mexican immigrants, weren’t fluent in English, and struggled to assimilate into American culture. Their barriers wouldn’t stop them from presenting me with an opportunistic life. I didn’t have the luxury of parents that had proper schooling; all they taught me was to work hard and to not allow anything to bring me down. I was raised in a low-income neighborhood, and as my peers were entangling themselves in drugs and gangs, I focused on my schooling. I knew the importance of education and all the fruits of labor that would eventually come with it. I didn't’ fall into peer pressure, I surpassed the expectations of my family, and most importantly, did not fall into the negative statistics that correlate with Latinos.

Being one of the only Mexican families in my neighborhood with my father definitely standing out, we received a lot of egregious comments and hateful eyes. Day after day we made sure to strive through this no matter what, and I had an epiphany which eventually led to a want to change the political stance in the world, and the idea that racism doesn't exist. Instead of hate, I decided to try to change the ideas of those around me, and realize that through their harsh words were teachings I could use to further improve my knowledge of the human brain and society as a whole. As years went by, more and more minorities began to inhabit my neighborhood, and as I began to befriend them, I heard their stories, the injustices done unto them, and the importance of motivation and perseverance.  Just like my father, their success stories were lined with failure, racism, and eventually the ability to overcome the problems that faced them. With this, I understood failure as a gift to the human race, and I became a scholar in historic teachings. I became the president of World Quest, leading my team in Junior year to a top 10 finish and Senior year to another top 10 finish, being both the captain and

America is a melting pot with so many cultures, however I didn’t know my own culture to begin with. On my way to school I began to I wonder about my own culture, and what unknown knowledge lies under the tales of other minorities. With my hunger to satisfy my need to learn more about my culture, I took a Chicano Studies college course. This has to be one of my favorite academic subject because I was told many different facts and statistics of the Chicano population, from the pregnancy rates of young women to the social experiments done on Chicano students from grade school to high school. This passion to have the Chicano perspective be seen was what led me to try and get at least a Chicano based unit in English classes. However, it was denied

Even though I may be identified as a typical Mexican American, I'm not average. I have always been the kid who stands out from the rest. Besides having a thick Spanish accent, I don't look like the common Mexican, my skin color is significantly darker than the rest. I have been and still, am perceived as Asian and Middle Eastern. Even though I explain to many that I'm Mexican many don't believe me, specifically, strangers. This misconception of my ethnicity causes me to be different from others, not just because of my appearance but the experiences I possess of it as a result. Having been treated as other ethnicities that face severe discrimination has allowed me to learn and understand the problems they face on a daily basis. Thankfully I have not faced a dangerous encounter but I have experienced some

“Don’t listen to them,” my grandmother said as she wiped the tears from my face and ran her fingers through my long, black hair. I remember the constant teasing from my peers in elementary school. Growing up in a predominately white neighborhood, my family and I were looked at differently because we were “people of color.” All of the parents who would drop their children off for school in the morning would stare at my father. Growing up, it was incredibly difficult to figure out who I was because I was Mexican and Caucasian with a Puerto Rican step father who raised me since I was three. Thus, his culture heavily influenced me as well. At family parties I was spoken to in English and Spanish with both Mexican and Puerto Rican dialects.

MY personal experience was visiting Busch Gardens for the first time in Tampa Florida. The scenery was extremely beautiful and a very playful place to enjoy during the holidays. As I walked in the smell of different food grabbed my attention. The food court was very clean, but I couldn’t eat yet due to the fact that I wanted to hop on the roller coaster. The roller coasters were so huge it was nothing compared to the fun spot in Orlando Florida. My skin started to shiver because they were going too fast, people were screaming and I wasn’t sure if it was due to happiness or being scared.

Whether it was my persistent requests for my mother dreadlock my hair at the age of 8, or the immediate connection I had to the dancehall mixes played in the backgrounds of family gatherings, I was very proud of the person that my native land was bound to shape me into. But this held opposite to those of the “outside world”. Soon, I became one of the very few minorities in my classroom, with those of fairer skin and origins rooted in European countries becoming the majority. At the sight of them, the thought “am I truly as beautiful as my mother told me I am” popped into my mind, with the image that I had to carry being seen as substantially different compared to those who now surrounded me. My youth soon persisted of me being completely aware of how “different” I truly was, however, this awareness only consisted of a [blank] percentage of negative feelings. But then, age 11 hit. The year I was pushed to experience a much larger scope of the world than elementary school had allowed me: a 6th grade academy. Sure, the neighborhood and the friends that I had known prior were still present, the new setting and set of people that this school added into my life proved to have its lasting

I always expected myself to be a cool, sophisticated, James Bond-like boy who always knew the right things to say; but in reality I was an awkward Vietnamese-immigrant boy with a massive communication problem. All my life, I’ve been the quiet kid who thoroughly enjoyed being by himself. In elementary school, I was able to evade any questions about why I would never talk; for one, I had no grasp of the English language until the third grade. However, by the time I entered middle school, English was no longer a mystery, in fact, it became one of my strongest subjects. I was getting smarter, but so were the other kids. Their understanding of societal norms was growing, and what they understood was that I was not a part of the social norm.

As a second-generation immigrant, I didn’t automatically fit in, especially in middle school. I was teased for my roots, with the phrase, “African Booty-Scratcher,” and the color of my skin, even by those of the same shade of skin as me. However, I didn’t think a thing of it; I was unaffected by their remarks because of the pride I have in who I am. My culture gives me my pride. It was tough to find my place in society until I realized that I wasn’t meant to just exist in society: I was meant to lead it. I have grown into a leader in my school and in my community, being truly reliable and taking initiative to do what is

One of my personal experiences that I had was when my family decided to move from New Jersey to Florida. I never planned on moving with them but my mother basically forced me into moving with them. It wasn’t really all that moving stuff because the new house was actually pretty nice, it was just I had all my friends there and I was doing well in school. Nothing I said convinced my mother so after a week of packing we was off to Florida. The first week being there was a horrible week. Nothing was going right for me, I missed the school bus for a whole week, dropped my milk on my new shoes, and tripped over nothing in lunch. It was just trying to move back but parents always have this life lesson speech about trying to make new friends and try to get used to being here until we move again. It’s been about a month since we moved to Florida and I met about zero friends but I got used to living here since I’ve found something that interested me as an after school hobby and that was fishing. There’s barley any lakes or ponds in New Jersey so fishing wasn’t really something you do as a time waster. I usually fished right after I got home but on that day it was rainy and it wasn’t really a good time to fish so I just decided to practice my free shots until it started raining hard. I think I was outside for about 20minutes and suddenly a couple kids from my new school asked if they can shoot

When a person reflects on their childhood, they often remember it filled with events that reflect comfort and delight. My childhood was unique in the aspect that I was immersed in a culture that was different than my own. I was a Latina growing up in a predominantly Asian community, where I was surrounded by a culture that was foreign to the one I was exposed to at home. I did not think much of this until I grew older and began to notice slight differences between the lives of my friends in comparison to my own. Although we had grown up together, I began to notice there was times where people begin to doubt my academic abilities. People underestimated what I could academically achieve simply because I was Latina. I came to realize overtime that I could not change who I was, despite how difficult

Life is full of adventures and experiences. The key to living well is making these experiences as meaningful as possible. I went through a very significant experience, which was actually more of a risk, about two years ago. I was 15 years old and I had to decide whether I would stay in my hometown or move to Monterrey, Mexico. As in every dilemma faced, there are pros and cons that will try to sway you. Time wouldn’t stop and the day of my decision was getting closer and closer; the less time I had to decide, the more confused and undecided I became. All I could do was imagine myself living the future in my hometown or in Monterrey. But, why was I put into this situation? Should I have stayed where I was born and where I’d lived my whole

When I think of my own personal past experiences, I think of the most significant events and most likely think that those are the times that have shaped you as who you are today and who you are in the future. When my grandpa had passed away there were major effects that my family and I had faced. Difficulties like not being able to sleep at night and having lost someone who meant something special to everyone. When I think about the smaller challenges I have faced in the past and throughout my life, I can start to put together that even the most insignificant events that have happened in the past could make a significant impact on the person I am in my near or far future. Occurrences like going through broken bones, losing friends, or even a gym teacher might have a greater force than I may have expected.

Hands shaking, heart fluttering, staring into the mirror, I prepared myself for the first day of college classes. My eyes searched my reflection, trying to make sense of the jumbled thoughts in my brain. This transition into college life caused thoughts like, “Who am I?”, “Why am I here?”, and “What is my goal in life?” to speed through my head, making me dizzy and anxious. These are questions that every living person will experience, and every single person will have to discover the answers for themselves. Many use aids, such as assessments, to help understand the complexity of their minds. Although who I am will continue to shift and evolve, I’ve finally started to understand who I am as a person.

In my personal experience, the agents that I believe have influenced me the most are my family and peers. I think from the beginning and even before I was born, I was influenced by my family. I believe that the environment my parents were in, primarily my mother since she carried me, affected me in a good way. The reasoning behind this is because if my mother had suffered from malnutrition then I believe I would have been born with defects that would have sooner or later been detected. Since I consider myself pretty normal, then I think my mom did a pretty good job with me. Then after I was born and before I had friends when it was just me, the center of my parents, I was well fed. If not there could have been problems with my health, but there really wasn’t so I was in good nutrition. If a kid was malnourished then many medical problems could have arisen, to support my claims “if malnourished as a child, their growth may also be stunted, making them shorter than average (KidsHealth).” Also my parents are Catholic so I was raised in a catholic church, which has shaped my values that concern sex before marriage or how to be forgiven of my sins. As well as to how to take the word of god into my everyday life to support this “faith-based activities is good for the body and mind” according to a LiveScience report.