Personal Narrative: I Am Half Black

“I was born a poor black child” on the Gulf coast of Mississippi in Biloxi, Harrison county. It was the eleventh day of February 1961. I was delivered in the hospital at Keesler Air Force Base where my father was a lieutenant going through pilot training. My mom was now an even busier homemaker with the arrival of child number three in just 27 months.

I was late for school, and my father had to walk me in to class so that my teacher would know the reason for my tardiness. My dad opened the door to my classroom, and there was a hush of silence. Everyone's eyes were fixed on my father and me. He told the teacher why I was late, gave me a kiss goodbye and left for work. As I sat down at my seat, all of my so-called friends called me names and teased me. The students teased me not because I was late, but because my father was black. They were too young to understand. All of this time, they thought that I was white, because I had fare skin like them, therefore I had to be white. Growing up having a white mother and a black father was tough. To

Having the best two days of my life. Hanging out, watching horrifying movies, and spending time with some teammates before one of the biggest cross country races that exist tomorrow morning. Hundreds of people were going to attend this event to cheer on a family member. Even though this was three years ago and I came just to support some of Forest Park cross country runners.

This is one of the most painful subjects for me as a part Hispanic and part African-American. When I relocated to the United States in 1988, I was not prepared for what I experienced concerning racism in America. The racist and ignorant comments made by Hispanics towards and about African American and the racist and ignorant comments made by African Americans towards and about Hispanics were disturbing and offensive to say the least. And each and every time I stood up for my Hispanic roots and my African-American roots. Added to that, the issue of “dark skin and light skin within the African-American community. First time, I heard the term “high yellow ______” was when an African-American woman used that term about me. I didn’t even know what

All throughout time people have been “the other.” Pratt refers to the other as being “Someone who is perceived by the dominant culture as not belonging, as they have been

I woke up thinking this is the day, the day that I would have to try my best. On October 21, 2017 in Rapid City, South Dakota the day of my biggest cross-country race had come. It was state. I felt very thrilled and nervous that the day had come.

Hi, I am Arabella, a junior in high school and a varsity cheerleader at Siesta Key High School. I am four feet and eight inches tall and a flyer on the cheer team. I often dress like a nerd, and do not care what other people think. I am dating the star football player at SKHS his name is Tom. Tom was not only a star football player, but he is also very good at soccer, basketball, baseball and volleyball. He is a liar and a cheater too. Anyways, people just call me Bella. I love sports and love spending my days off at the beach. I especially love Major League Baseball; Tampa Bay Devil Rays is my favorite team. I am a happy person most of the time. Who’s dedicated to my cheerleading career; and I want to get a scholarship for Northwestern

In life people are often misunderstood for who or what they are. Whether it being who they are or their skin, hair, personality, traits, clothing, religion, or their body. When growing up it seems no matter where I go I always see be misjudged. Usually is my skin, or the way I talk,or the way I act.

It all began in the year 1955. This was the year that so many great things shook the foundation of America that will never be forgotten for years and years to come. My name is Joyce Norman I was a military brat that was born and raised in the small town of Fayetteville, North Carolina along with one brother and four sisters. To show a little humor, this is another place like Texas that has bipolar weather from sunny skies with a hint of rain to a giant blizzard that’ll give you a death of pneumonia. Throughout, the years of my life as an African American we heard songs of change, we were insured and inspired in church that change would come some way or another either in the community or in our nation. As the world continued to change I

Living in Chicago in the 21st century is not a necessarily easy thing. Everyday, I live with the fear that a loved one of mines could be taken away from me at any moment. Or the fact that my life could be taken away just from walking out of my front door. I dream of going to college and making something of myself. Often, other students tell me I can not achieve my dreams because I am an African American student. I pushed and struggle so hard to prove these students wrong. Because I am African American, many people view me as just a number. And that number is 33.1%; which is the college graduation rate for Black males. I would like to be one of the many people that will increase this percent. Recently, I was given the opportunity to take part

I am an African American. You must be wondering what’s my name since im “black”, you might be thinking that its ghetto, right? No need to know where I came from, you must think that I come from the projects right? It’s not like it’s important to you. You probably think that my future plans are that I won’t finished high school and that I will become pregnant. One look at the color of my skin is all it takes. Right? Look again.

I grew up here in the U.S.A and my parents from the U.S also. I live in an ethnically diverse community that the residents show a deeper understanding of their ancestry’s culture. The term of senses that I witness is sight and audio. Since on the daily basis I hear, people speak other languages such as Spanish, Korean, Chinese, Hindi, Arabic, French, and Japanese. In the term of sight, I see who are from Asian background bow to each, African American nod at each other when walking pass, and people just slight smiling at each other. From my culture since I am African American we really do not that many of greeting each other. We would slight nod or smile and make eye contact or for the males who do a doing the handshake and shoulder bump maneuver.

All people recognize race due the distinctive differences of their skin colors. Africans, Europeans, and Asians can be distinguished at a glance since the races differ is obviously from each other. If a person stated they cannot recognize race, that would not be true. Personally, is how a person’s treat the race that matters. Anyhow, I was born in a war-torn country, thus, my family and I moved from one refugee camp to the next one in search for a safe and a better place to resettle. To make a long story short, I first recognized racial differences in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, Africa. I had rocks thrown at me and was called names such as coffee pot, monkey etc., due to the color of my skin. In addition, when my family arrived in the U.S in 1994,

In the rearward sitting arrangement, eagerly listening to the words getting through the speakers, what is this I listen?, pondering internally. Something so profound, brimming with feeling, and life, it's as though I went into another measurement, coasting on a billow of peacefulness. On the other hand, this inclination suddenly finished with a farewell kiss as I get ready to enter the school building. I was making the most of my initial morning timetable, finding out about straightforward arithmetic, how to coexist with my associates, playing at break, however I couldn't hold up to get lost again, and leave the natural domain with this magnificent sound of instruments and voices, ever so discreetly getting through my mom's auto speakers. The

Recently declared as having the number one college in the nation, Claremont, California has been a bastion of education for many years. It is a small college suburb town on the eastern edge of Los Angeles County with a population of about 35,500 people. While hailed as a diverse community, the city’s racial complexion is rather unvaried. Nearly 55 percent of the population identifying as “white” with the next highest ethnic group being those that are of Latino heritage, with around 22 percent of the population. Asian Americans and African Americans represent around 15 and 5 percent of the population, respectively (US). The median household income is around $88,000, higher than the average for all of California. Claremont also has 7.2 percent