Personal Narrative: Mrs. Gardner

On 05/07/2018 at about 2255 hours, I was dispatched to 113 Frad Ave in reference to a battery that had occurred.

I got the chance to interview a wonderful person, Ms. Breyonia Sterling. Breyonia resides here in Savannah, Ga and she is 18 years old. Her birthday is April 8th, which qualifies her to be an Aries. Breyonia Sterling is a wonderful person because she has an admirable personality, she is very success- driven, and has some unique favorites. I also learned while interviewing her that we have a lot in common.

On the night of December 19th, 2003, a baby is born. Her mom’s a social worker, her dad’s a nephrologist, and she has one older sister. Her name is Sophia Galoustian, although later she will wish to be called Sophie. After two years of living in Maine, the family moves to California, where Sophie will grow up.I am Sophia Galoustian, and this is part of who I am.

“If, when you’re older, someone comes knocking on your door asking you some heated questions that you’re not sure how to answer, just stop and say “I want an attorney” and they’ll have to provide you with one as a basic right,” she stressed.

Mrs. Sofia is a 46-year-old Hispanic female. Mrs. Sofia moved to the United States six months ago from the Dominican Republic. She moved with her family to Connecticut to better their lives and for greater job opportunities. Mrs. Sofia works at the local high school as a housekeeper. Mrs. Sofia is happily married with two daughters, one son, and she lives with her parents. Mrs. Sofia is very close with her family. Mrs. Sofia stated, “My family is the biggest part of my life and support system”. Mrs. Sofia’s primary language is Spanish, but can speak some English. Mrs. Sofia and her family believe in folk remedies in times of illness. In time of sickness, she uses herbs to help cure the illness. Since Mrs. Sofia is a immigrant from the Dominican Republic she was not able to receive the same type of health care that a typical American would have.

As high school freshmen, most kids do not get very excited about walking into their College Preparatory Biology class, but I sure did! Everyday I looked forward to Mrs. Wilson's 3rd period biology lesson because she never disappointed. Mrs. Wilson was a special kind of teacher, she was the type to turn boring lectures into a captivating learning tale and had the gift of making tests enjoyable with her creative illustrations. Yes, you read that right, I enjoyed her tests. One day, Mrs. Wilson presented us with a demanding project; “Okay class, I am challenging you to create the BEST “Bunnimoose.” she announced. As we sat there with puzzled faces, she went further into explanation.

As part of the greater push at that grade level to introduce kids to a greater depth of books, Mrs. Oak created a game that would award points based on the number and length of books that you read, with a prize being given to the winner at the end of every month (usually candy). Now being the clever nine year old brat that I was, I decided to game the system by quickly flipping through a great number of small children’s books every day. While this did put me ahead on points, I was completely avoiding the entire point of the game. So to Mrs. Oak’s great credit, she decided to limit the number of books I could check out of the school’s library to three per week. With my lead in the literary scoreboard slipping away, I checked out a book that

6th Grade: Mrs. McEversons. Moving up to sixth grade was really scary. Actually, not that scary, but it's a whole new school, new friends, and new, well, pretty much EVERYTHING, except for a few of my old friends.

We line up for lunch. Mrs. Price thinks thinks everything’s okay after I gave the sweater to Phyllis Lopez, which made me upset, so I yelled at Phyllis, “You ruined my birthday!” Phyllis ignored me, which made me furious, so I step on her foot. Then she did it back to me, and Mrs. Price sees that and we both get in trouble. Mrs. Price give us a warning, but I decided to calm down instead of breaking down again.

Jane and I grew up in grade school together. She was in the class ahead of me, but her and I were still friends. My father was into politics and involved himself in whatever he could with Jane's dad. Since our fathers were away quite often, we would spend a lot of time together. Since Jane didn't have a mother, my mother would often include Jane in whatever my sisters and I were doing. We would have great talks together talking about what we wanted to do when we grew up. Even though neither one of us knew what we wanted to do, Jane was someone that always had the biggest heart for helping people. She was always talking about the stories her father told her about President Lincoln, and even though she didn't know how, she knew she wanted to be someone to make change like he did.

I wanted to sort of touch base with you about my absence as I am doing with all my teachers and basically wanted to offer an explanation so that I don't cause any more frustration, hopefully.

My mom had the best intentions, but she didn't know how to help me. My mother was practically a single mother for two years I had to grow up real quick. She had to work and I had to stay home, lock all the doors, and find a way to keep my little sister entertained. For a long time I didn't understand why my father had left. One day we got a call that my grandfather was in the hospital. A few days later he passed. That moment changed every single person in my family. Everyone was broken, but yet the spark that had been dead in all of us lit up. Over time, many of the scars from the past began to fade along with my bitter attitude. These experiences formed who my family is today and how they have raised me to be. I now understand my hardships weren’t an excuse to be unkind. I have grown into a responsible women with strong morals and values. The essay asked how would I contribute to the diversity of The University of Kentucky and the answer is I have a spark. A spark that no one else but I have. The spark that's going to give me that push to fight harder and stronger than any other

“Hey, terrorist,” a boy called out to me from across the classroom, drawing laughter from his friends. I pretended not to hear and stared into my book. It was a typical day in my life growing up as a first-generation American attending public school in a poor Bronx neighborhood. Being one of the few Indian kids there, I was relentlessly picked on. My school was desperately underfunded where teachers often spent their own money on supplies.

Everyday on my short hike home from school, I strolled by her house and inhaled the freshness and beauty of her home. If you looked at her house, you would detect a beautiful array of azaleas, bushes, trees, and other beautiful flowers. More of her property consisted of flowers than a house. The small cottage she lived in hat a tin roof. Every morning, I would see Miss Maudie, wearing her sunhat and dress, water flowers in her front yard. Everyone in the town knew that Maudie Atkinson possessed her garden most off all. I remember when her house burned down, and she didn’t appear to be upset at all. She rambled continuously about how much she could grow her garden. She possessed what I would consider an outstanding quality, the ability to see the good in anything.

I will tell you a tale of a woman of great success. This is a woman that has inspired me to be something great one day and to never give up trying. Though she may be growing into her elderly years she has lived a very challenging, joyful, loving and successful life. She is a woman of great faith and character, she is my grandmother.