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Southern american culture
Example of personal story
Southern american culture
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Faraway, at the other end of the world, there is a unique and holy place for me, a tiny, red brick house, who reminds me of my cheerful childhood and the love my family shared. I will always treasure this house with its smell of the past, its pictures of all of us and the unconditional love behind her doors.
My grandma’s house, which seemed to grow smaller as my grandma does, quietly nestled in a quiet street, along the city’s coast on the Black Sea, the house is a humble, red cottage-style with green trimming and a beautiful flower garden that led to the front door, also there are draping, fine established grape vines that covered the roof and a small veggie garden at the back, sea breeze and the songs of the seagulls filled the air.
Whenever I walk into my grandma’s house, the first sight that immediately grabs my attention, is her large old wooden closet, so clean and well-organized. Even now closing my eyes, I can remember my grandma’s colorful dresses and skirts, precisely ironed and draping each to another and the best smelling linens with lavender as the scent. On the wall across the closet there are crookedly hanging family photos, dozens of images, showing us where we have been and where we are getting going; my grandfather in his marine uniform during World War II; my grandma as a young girl at the
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My grandma’s table is the emphasis of my living memories. Everything we do at the house is on this precious aged table; we prepare a meal on the table, we dining every night at the table, my grandfather often reads his books on the table, we play domino on the table, we hosting our friend on the table, my grandparents preserve fruits and vegetables in a jars on the table, I study on the table and play with my toys on the table. Our lives were passing through at the table and all the major family decisions took place
It is often ignored that legacy is responsible for the unity of a family. As Walker lightens the reader with the importance of quilts in “Everyday Use”, she amplifies the significance of it by presenting Maggie, the younger of
The personification of her home lets the author express old memories the house held and will never have again, she speaks of no one ever sitting under its roof, or ever eating at its table and how in silence will it lie. By personificating the house she reveals the emotional attachment people tend
Heritage in a family can be preserved in many different ways. Be it a diary written by your great great grandpa or a pot your grandma passed on to your mum who passed it on to you, nothing compares to the great comfort in understanding ones heritage especially when it involves the deep love and devotion of a strong mother. In the poem "My Mother Pieced Quilts" by Teresa Acosta and the short story "Everyday Use" by Alice Walker, both authors use imagery and figurative language to establish a quilt as a symbol for a mothers love of her children to illustrate their themes.
As I walked through the door of the funeral home, the floral arrangements blurred into a sea of vivid colors. Wiping away my tears, I headed over to the collage of photographs of my grandfather. His smile seemed to transcend the image in the pictures, and for a moment, I could almost hear his laughter and see his eyes dancing as they tended to do when he told one of his famous jokes. My eyes scanned the old photographs, searching for myself amidst the images. They came to rest on a photo of Grandpa holding me in his lap when I was probably no more than four years old.
... attempts to change the way Mama and Maggie perceive tradition by using the quilts as a wall display. Mama refuses to allow it, Dee was offered the quilts when she was in college and didn’t want them at that time. Mama gives the quilts to Maggie as her wedding gift to be used every day as they were intended, knowing how much Maggie appreciates them. I agree with Mama and Maggie for keeping family memories and objects in daily use. It is important to maintain your family history in your everyday life to preserve those special memories.
By contrasting the family characters in “Everyday Use,” Walker illustrates lost heritage by placing the significance of heritage solely on material objects. Walker presents Mama and Maggie, the younger daughter, as an example that heritage in both knowledge and form passing from one generation to another through a learning experience connection. However, by a broken connection, Dee the older daughter, represents a misconception of heritage as material. Dee, the “heritage queen” portrays a rags to riches daughter who does not understand what heritage is all about. Her definition of heritage hangs on a wall to show off, not to be used. Dee’s avoidance of heritage becomes clear when she is talking to Mama about changing her name, she says, “I couldn’t bear it any longer being named after the people who oppress me” (Walker 75). Thus resembling that Dee just takes another name without even understanding what her original name means. She tries to explain to Mama that her name now has meaning, quality, and heritage; never realizing that the new name means nothing. Changing her name bothers Mama and Maggie because Dee’s name is a fourth generation name, truly giving it heritage. Dee likes to gloat to her friends about how she was raised, so she tries to show off by decorating her house with useful items from her past. Her argument with Mama about taking quilts that were hand stitched as opposed to sewn by machine gives readers a chance to see Dee’s outlook of heritage is short lived. Dee says to Mama, “But they’re priceless. . . Maggie would put them on the bed and in five years they’d be in rags. Less than that!” (Walker 77). Mama will not allow her daughter to take the quilts because she has been saving them for Dee’s sister, Maggie, and she wants the quilts to be put into everyday use. By helping
In the short story “Everyday Use” by Alice Walker, the author portrays opposing ideas about one’s heritage. Through the eyes of two daughters, Dee and Maggie, who have chosen to live their lives in very different manners, the reader can choose which character to identify most with by judging what is really important in one’s life. In Dee’s case, she goes out to make all that can of herself while leaving her past behind, in comparison to Maggie, who stays back with her roots and makes the most out of the surroundings that she has been placed in. Through the use of symbolism, the tangible object of a family heirloom quilt brings out these issues relating to heritage to Mama, and she is able to reasonably decide which of her daughters has a real appreciation for the quilt, and can pass it on to her. Dee and Maggie shed a new light on the actual meaning of heritage through their personality traits, lifestyle decisions, and relationships with specific family members.
Being raised in a small town lower classed city called Cleveland Texas, my goal was to make it out of the rural area. The blue house is what I called my childhood home, even though most of the blue paint was chipped off and you mostly seen wood with a few areas of chipped blue paint. Before, getting to the house you had to go about a half mile down a red dirt clay road before getting to what looked like a small blue shake. Living in the home was a total of ten people, which included myself, mother, father, three siblings and three older cousins that stayed with us at the time. There were three small bedroom that did not include any type of closet, a full sized bed, and two dressers with a small TV with the fat back attached to it. It also had
Something that I really struggled with was the passing of my Grandmother. She was a strong woman and an inspiration to everybody in my family. I think that I struggled with it because she was a great human being, I kind of looked up to her a bit, and of course she was part of my family. I think that along with her passing, I struggled with the fact that she died when I thought that she did nothing wrong in her entire life and did not deserve to die. Mainly the fact that she was a really good person and she just died like that.
There is only one place in this world I would go to find the meaning of life, my childhood home. In my memories, that house has always been my sanctuary. Safety brings a touch of tranquility, free of twisted negativity that would clear the way of finding the meaning of my life. My house opens a door to a whirlwind of deep love for everything it stands for and distaste for the way it looks. When you 're living in an unseemly house, surrounded by people who thinks its an eyesore, was when I learned the superficiality of the people around me. That house became my heaven as well as, my hell. I was caught between my appreciation for my own home and the approval of others, but as I grew up I found out what I should treasure more is the simple joys of life.
This short story has an ironic tone. When reading this short story, it is a pleasant and normal travel to a former home. Anyone can have a similar outlook when going back to a place in one’s childhood and find many thin...
In my memory, my grandparent’s house looks lively and surrounded by garden. The front door of the house was connected with the gate of the garden by cobblestone. Along both
This lady is the most wonderful person I 've ever met. She is old, affectionate, and intelligent. It took me eighteen years to realize how much this extraordinary person influenced my life. She 's the type of person who charms everyone with her stories and experiences. She always time for her family and friends. She is the kind of leader who does everything to keep her family together and in harmony. She is my grandmother.
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...
When I think back to the days when I was a child, I think about all of my wonderful childhood memories. Often I wish to go back, back to that point in life when everything seemed simpler. Sometimes I think about it too much, knowing I cannot return. Yet there is still one place I can count on to take me back to that state of mind, my grandparent’s house and the land I love so much.