My Personal History
According to my birth certificate, I was born Austin John Penny to my parents, Julie and Charles Penny. My birth occurred at 1:25 A.M. on April 19, 1996. I was born at Spalding Regional Hospital in Griffin, GA. My pediatrician who took care of me was Dr. Jim Dunaway, Sr.
My personal choice of athletics is golf. The Legacy Yearbooks of Strong Rock Christian School document my golf. My first year playing for the school in a team sport was in 2007 when I was in sixth grade. I played golf for the school until I graduated. During that time, we won Regions once and placed 3rd in the state that year. For the past 14 months, however, I have not been able to play golf. I broke my left hand in November of 2015 and had surgery on
I was born _name__ on _date__ in _place__. I am a son, brother, uncle, nephew, cousin, and friend. I was desperately shy as a small child, but grew out of it. My teen years were happy times sports, friends, summers spent in __place_. It all helped shape me into who I am today. My interests are many. I have always enjoyed reading about history and follow the history channel faithfully. I love music. It's been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I find it calming when life gets rocky.
I was born at Swedish Covenant Hospital in Chicago, Illinois on September 30, 1978. I was the second of two children at the time; the first conceived after my mother (an ICU clerk) and
History is a living entity, suffused with generations of stories and experiences. The simple act of digging in my garden can unearth untold treasures and reveal new and exciting eras of the past. One particular item which holds immense interest for me is a piece of shrapnel I found, which was perhaps part of a bomb during the Clydebank Blitz. By delving into the history of this seemingly unimportant metal shard, at my local library and Blitz exhibition, I realised that it told a story of part of the history of my community, of when my town was targeted by the Luftwaffe and of the destruction caused by the bombs that fell. This emphasised to me that history is everywhere and an important part of our social and cultural identity.
You read through thousands of applications, but as you consider me please understand my background is likely different from many applying. I am from Newport Beach, California, but I am not wealthy, nor do I come from sheltered background. I go to a prestigious school with many programs, but they all come with a price tag. As a child of single parent, I was told from a young age not to ask for things unless absolutely necessary. It didn’t take long for me to realize, I couldn’t rely on my mom to remind me do my homework, teach me how fill out job applications, or a prepare me for competitive academic high school environment. If your parent isn’t involved, no one really pulls you aside to tell you to start studying for the ACT during your freshman
In 1995, I was asked to relocate to a different city. I had lived in Cincinnati and the surrounding area all of my life. My entire biological family was there (well, except the ones in south central Kentucky, but that’s another story). All my friends were there. I was well-rooted into my church (my real family). Everything. All that I knew in life was in Cincinnati. All my ex’s lived in, not Texas, but Cincinnati. We accepted the call and in the last days there, I sat in shock of what I was about to do. Uncertainty was overwhelming One day as I sat quietly, I heard a still, small say, “Pam, I have taken care of you in Cincinnati, you know I will take care of you in this new city.” I was instantly in peace.
We should celebrate life every day, celebrating who we are as a person and appreciating every moment every step that it took to become the person we are today. I celebrate the opportunities and challenges that I have encountered along the journey to becoming who I am today. Sometimes that journey has been misunderstood by people close to me, as they don’t always remember the steps, the moments, or even the challenges it took to get to where I am today. It is I that remembers every challenge because I lived them--every moment etched into my very existence molding me into the person I am today.
My life in America started with a couple of unfortunate events that changed me profoundly. In the first six months in this country, I learned to be resilient, innovated and decisive. Thanks to those experiences I was prepared to achieve my American Dream. Before I moved to this country, I was a studious girl, that owned a small cloth shop in a town in the middle of the jungle. I could only dream of having a successful career. It was very unlikely that a girl from the Choco, the poorest and least developed state in Colombia, could graduate with honor from a school like Villanova. And even less likely that I could become the only Latina and the only black woman in the legal, engineering team of a 12 billion dollar company, that is considered one of the top companies for work-life balance. The US has given me all opportunities and all the tools to succeed.
There have been many ups and downs in my life, but I have often maneuvered a way to get back on the rodeo. In the mix of it all, I’ve always to wanted to be something bigger than myself. That motivation thrust me to do I did all I could to get my GED; thereafter, my Bachelor while employed in two jobs to support my mother and siblings back home in Haiti. I remember vividly the first dialogue that I had with my father; He told me that I had to get to work to take care of my mother. I was just only a 17-year-old teenage kid. He reminded me of my principal duty was, and still is in my life, to make take care of my mother; therefore, I have done all I could for the betterment of my family and myself. Consequently, I was very focused. It is factual that I fell off the wagon a few times; however, I picked myself up every single time. I took my General Education Diploma test twice before I could get my diploma. Thereafter, I went to a vocational school to study video production. Two years later, I realized that a certificate was not good enough and I decided to go to college.
For as long as I can remember, I was told I could do anything I put my mind to if I was willing to put forth the effort. My parents played the essential role of providing resources that would instill a good work ethic and passion in me. While my options are limitless, I have spent most of my academic career preparing me for a future in scientific research and academia. Enumerable factors have molded me into the passionate person that I am today, so the answer to “Who are you?” is not simple but is rather a culmination of life experiences.
I think the people who will be there in my funeral will say something about my real experiences with them which will lead them to remember and describe some of my personal values that I practiced with them. The first value will be the Christian Faith which I practiced as much I could by attending the services at the church with my family, making my daughter attending the Sunday school, participating in the project of the hunger people, attending the bible study in the church, and dealing with people in a nice way. The people at my work may mentioned some values like being on time, calling them from time to time if they are sick, doing my job’s tasks in a good way, and replacing them at work if they are not able to come. The people at the university may say that Sameh was trying hard to learn, he invited us for the Egyptian food, and he was an easygoing man, whatever we said or being angry with him, he was saying God bless you. My family will mention how I was working full time job, doing may practicum hours, study hard, and helping us at home in cleaning and cooking. They may mention also how I was supporting them by encouraging my wife to study and help my daughter with homework. I would like people to say about me how much I was sensitive to people by trying to not disappointing them, to learn and ask about the new cultural issue here in the American community since I came from Egypt. Also my family in Egypt can say how much this person was lovable; he was calling us every
The alarm sounds and whether I’m dreaming or not, it could take minutes maybe even hours to figure out where I have gone. I have ignored this sound so much that some may find how long I let it go off to be wrong. How weary I am and how much I’ve killed my brain, hit me like a train the day before and the day before that. I am as inanimate as the pitch black ground outside that my shoes will once again meet not long after I begin to move my feet.
One day when I came home from school, I wanted to say hello to my step dad but he was in the shower. Therefore, I went straight to my room without saying hello to him. After a few minutes I heard the shower turn off in the bathroom. When he opened the bathroom door I heard him yelling my name, so I quickly ran to him to see if he was ok.When I saw him he told me he did not feel good and could not walk. I told him to stop playing around because he always joked about his health. But he told me he was not joking and as he said that, his left side of his face and body began to not work. He almost fell on the floor but I grabbed him and helped him to sit down in our hallway. This situation was difficult for me to handle because I was only a teenager in high school, I never experienced a situation like this. But I set aside my emotions because I knew needed to help him, since me and him were the only two people home. Therefore, I hurried to the phone to call 911.While me and my step dad waited for the ambulance to arrive, I told him everything was going to be ok and made sure he kept eye contact with me.Approximely five minutes later the ambulance arrived. The paramedics placed my step father on top of the stretcher, and put him into the ambulance. I did not go into the ambulance with my step father because I need to call my mother to tell her what happned.When my mother came home my mother and I rushed to the hospital to see how my step dad was dong.The doctors told us, my step
That day I chose to stay and support this woman in birth rather than pick my son up school and take him to the fair. Instead, my husband picked him up from After School Care at 6pm and took him to the fair. I got home that night following this particularly long shift to find my son laying on the floor by the front door waiting for me. I will never know if I made the right decision or the wrong decision but I feel guilty. This situation was also an inconvenience for my husband as he had to leave work early at short notice to pick our son up from school. This memory plays on my mind and I feel like I put the needs of the woman and my academic needs before the needs of my 8 year old son and my husband.
After my sister left for college my mom made everything I did her business. I couldn’t do anything without her being one foot behind me asking what I was doing. And during my junior year she constantly did this to me and I almost killed myself. She thought of me as the actual child of god.
The light from the warm sun streamed through the blinds and bounced off my eyelids as my obnoxious alarm yelled to me that it was time for school. I refused to believe that I had to awake from my fantasy dreams and move out of my heavenly bed, so I aggressively snagged my phone to press snooze, for the fifth time of course. Getting up for school has always been a dying task for me. The thought of leaving my toasty hot blankets and actually getting ready to go to a place that looked like a filthy prison, all just to receive a cheap education through our pathetic government was at the bottom of my list of things to do. Of course eventually I got out of bed, but that was not my choice, it was my mom’s. After my mother’s many threats of being grounded, I rolled out of bed uttering several moans and groans. The moment the sheets slipped off my silky soft pajamas, and I stepped onto the icy, cold hardwood floor my body was overwhelmed with sadness. My poor attitude and I stomped down the stairs and grabbed the first decent thing in the pantry to eat for breakfast. This morning it was cheerios without the milk because I was feeling extra lazy. After eating the honey glazed cardboard, I decided that maybe I should actually get ready. I stared into my closet while simultaneously throwing almost every article of clothing I grabbed to the ground because it simply wasn’t going to match my light, ripped denims. With boiling frustration, I ran to my mother’s closet and grabbed one of her