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Personal Narrative

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The second I walked into middle school, I knew what I wanted to do, and how I intended to do it. Growing up, I was always taught to value education since nobody in my family had gone to college. Questions about college were frequently met with blank stares and dismissive shrugs. It was regarded as unchartered territory, and I planned to conquer it. My earliest memory of my grandmother was when I was 8 years old. Yearning for something to do, I resolved to learn Farsi, and began nagging my grandmother to teach me it. However, growing up in Iran, she never learnt how to read or write, and so she couldn't write my name, or even teach me the alphabet. My 8-year-old mind couldn't grasp the idea that my grandmother was illiterate. I went to school every day, learned how to write …show more content…

As if struck by lightning, I realized the importance of my education. Every day I treated school as my personal gateway to hell, pretending to be sick so I wouldn't have to go. Never once did I think that somewhere, someone else would be thrilled to have the opportunities available to me. I began to take school seriously, and as I grew older, I began to teach my grandmother how to read her mother language. She was just learning to read books when we had to relocate to the United States. My mother shaped my life in regard to the cultures I was forced into, which I gradually adopted as my own. Italy, Spain, France, England, I had lived in more places than I could count. The move to the States excited me beyond belief. I was overjoyed by the opportunities to learn in England, but in comparison the ones in Florida overwhelmed me. Everywhere I turned there were opportunities to further my education, which I grasped hungrily. Soon, I yearned for more, leading to my ventures into the unknown, which soon became the very-well known. I took a computer science class, and within a year mastered all the corners, the ins and

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