Personal Narrative: The Daily Mississippian

Living in the South as a youngster was an experience of which I reflect on today as a period of silence for me. There was still a great deal of racial tension in the air, I was told not to talk to white people as they were the enemy and would most likely hang me, and the schools were still segregated so there was no interaction with people other than those who looked like myself. At that time, I was not thinking about the future, but was more focused on the dos and don't s of the era. You were only to speak when spoken too, you didn't listen on adult conversations, you didn't discuss anything thing that went on within the household with anyone outside, and now there was the threat of desegregating the schools which became a major topic of discussion of which I was completely omitted.

The greasy scent of cheap burgers and fries wafted into the car as we pulled into the parking lot of a Wendy’s, right in the heart of who-knows-where, East Tennessee. I couldn’t contain my excitement as I rushed my 12-year-old self out of the minivan and into the palace of grease. Clad in ratty sweatpants and a t-shirt with my hair pressed down from my prolonged use of headphones, it was evident that I spent long hours sitting in a car, asking “if we’re there yet” too many times to count. In this moment, however, carving up Snowshoe Mountain on my snowboard didn’t seem as exciting as the machine that stood across the room. Standing tall, shiny, and red, the Coca-Cola Freestyle soda fountains were in the early stages of being released, and

Though I spent my entire life living in North Carolina I never thought of myself as a Southerner. My understanding of the Southern lifestyle was quite limited; there is an emphasis on family solidarity, and self-sufficiency with an agricultural backdrop that is part of their essence. The South is not simply a location, manners or customs it is a way of life. Hearing the childhood details of a favorite professor allowed me to envision a picture perfect life under the shade of a magnolia tree and little southern girl who grew up to be a Sandhills Community College professor, Mrs. Cole.

Want to know why I am the way I am? I was born in Mississippi, my home. My family and the people I lived around all come from a southern background. Other Mississippians are like family. When I leave Mississippi I feel like a stranger to everybody I meet. Not everybody is used to “Yes, ma’ams” and “No, sirs” or “Y’alls and “ain’ts” like I am.

Being from rural Mississippi, people from other states assume that we know very little about what goes on outside our state let alone our own town. In a way, I can see why, but glad I am one of the ones who, thanks to my family, have an idea of a world larger than my town. I am from a family of six consisting of my mother, father, step-mother, brother, and identical twin sister. We did a lot of traveling when growing up normally traveling out of state even if just for weekends. My interest in other cultures and languages came from my family, especially on my mother’s side where I members who traveled out of country for work and would bring us back clothes, books, or other souvenirs. My dad did not do as much traveling as my mom and had not

“Five Mississippi” -- Oozing crimson blood squirts and jets all over my snug apparel. Like a blazing fire, it spreads all over my “scratched” body . “Four Mississippi “-- One last glimpse of the moon playing hide and seek with the clouds, before I fade away. In that grimy, dreary, and wintry starlit sky, but that weather just made me expect the feeling of death. “Three Mississippi” -- Eyes of scarlet are gazing at me, however, I only perceive a blur; yet those eyes only made its ivory silk tailcoat, silver lining top hat, and chocolate skin seem more…nefarious. “Two Mississippi” -- Cozy fuzzy gloves are carrying me; flinging me to the strange electric glow of that eerie river; where I slowly sink into the ominous waters: drowning, bleeding,

Upon meeting with the SCCBOE this past weekend in Bluffton, we were told by the interim dean, Dr. Lawrence Gordon, that all candidates that were supply pastoring would need a letter of recommendation from their respective presiding elders in lieu of a letter from his/her pastor. On behalf on my brother, Rev. Damon Thornhill and myself, we would like to request a letter of recommendation. If anything is needed from either of us, please feel free to contact us at any

Writing the personal narrative and seeing my views on how I have impacted a few communities has encouraged me to reflect on how my parents have impacted how I interact within Macon’s community. Moving away from home and coming here has not had a significant impact on my life like I thought it would have. As a freshman and a sophomore, I was not as active as I would have liked to been in my college career. I did not really have a good understanding of why I was attending college, and being introverted made it difficult for me to settle in the new community that I was in. I preferred staying in my room and was not involved in the activities on campus or in the Macon community. This changed when I began to work as a tutor. I became more interactive

The morning was shining brightly with a nice ninety degree weather day. Friends from Florida were visiting for the week. Today was our splash zone day where we go to The Great Lakes Military Base and use paddle boards, kayaks, water bikes, swim in the lake and eat lots of food.

It was a beautiful, sunny South Georgia day. Five year old me invited my eleven year old sister to come outside and jump on the trampoline with me, and she said that she would be there in a few minutes. Excited, I ran out and starting to jump around by myself. It was hard to tell at this age how long I had been waiting, could’ve been 10 minutes or 30 minutes, but either way, it had been much too long, so I sat on the edge and glared at the back door. My dad came out to check on me, and I informed him on the situation. He went in and told her that I was waiting, and she said she’d be out in a minute. Well more than a minute passed, so I went in for the confrontation. She attempted to give some petty excuse while I slammed the door on her opportunity

It is true in life that everything happens for a reason. It is also true to say that sometimes it is all about being in the right place, at the right time. There was never a more prominent example of this than a traumatic summers evening, only a few years ago.

Last summer I wanted to work and earn a little cash and distract myself and not be home all summer. I didn't know where to apply so I applied everywhere I was even open to working in the fields my parents told me that the fields were the last place they ever wanted me to work. My mom and step dad Raul always told me that field work wasn't easy and that it was not for me but I didn't listen.

This year has been dedicated as our year of travel and so far we've been off to a great start. With the summer right around the corner and the kids officially out of school, I've been thinking of places to see and things to do. Last summer after one of our road trips we passed through beautiful St. Louis and that photo you see above is the photo that we took while driving on the highway. Not me of course, but I did hand my phone to my daughter so she could get a photo for me since she was in the passenger seat. St. Louis has always fascinated me and today I want to share with you my top 5 reasons why I want to visit St. Louis.

It was a normal friday morning here in Dallas, I walk out to my condo balcony to breathe in the the fresh hot air, with a hint of cut lawn clippings. It is a perfect day for a parade through downtown Dallas with Mr. Kennedy. I walked over a few rooms to do my routinely check on Mr. President, and as usual his confident self just shooed me away and told me to do my own thing. I begin to start my breakfast that I usually cook for him and his family when we are on campaign. The overwhelming smell of bacon and eggs drug Kennedy out of his room over into the kitchen to eat some breakfast. Still in his PJ’s and all he does the same as me and walks out the balcony and shouts out that it is going to be a great day. After I eat my delicious

Whenever I fight, except with the girl at the school, there seem to be a part of me that is turned off. Everything around me disappears and the only thing that matters is the person in front of me. I’m not angry with them, I don’t want to hurt them, I just don’t want them standing in front of me anymore. The bell rang and he got to swing at me once before I ducked under his straight right and hit him with a right hook. As he turned, next came the left cross followed by a straight right and he was out.