I am from Kentucky. Kentucky is not directly in the south, but it is viewed as a southern state. All my life, I have heard the negative connotations of Kentucky and the south. I’ve heard that we are hicks and stupid and never wear shoes. It’s always gotten on my nerves even though I know it’s not true. I’ve grappled with being proud of where I’m from, but it will always be my roots and my home. On my journey to state pride, I’ve learned more about the south. This past summer I even traveled around the southern United States. I started in Kentucky and circled around to New Orleans. This is when I first set foot in Greenville, SC. At first look it was quiet, but it was so beautiful. Downtown was shaded by many trees and the streets were clean …show more content…
That evening we went to see Shakespeare in the park. We lied down on the grass and watched an amazing show and we could have spent another day or two there. I loved it, and when the time came to apply for college I knew I would apply to Furman. When applying to college my main goals were to find a place that focused on the community, the students, and the learning experience. Furman felt right. I felt at home in Greenville. It was a town I could be proud of and a place that was very similar to my hometown, but different enough to explore. The more and more I researched Furman, the more in love I fell. I saw many students studying abroad in beautiful places. I saw a focus on Community Service. I saw students having the time of their life while studying. Any place that can make studying fun is a good place to be. I started to really see myself at Furman. I saw myself auditioning for shows and participating in Shakespeare in the park. I saw myself studying abroad in Brussels, or France, or England, I saw myself helping out with community projects, and I saw myself going to Art exhibitions and seminars. I could see
Many wonderful memories come to mind when I think about my life growing up in the South. Family barbeques, friendly people, and neighbors that will help you in a time of need are only a few of the good things about growing up in the South. Neighbors will knock on your door and ask to borrow some sugar. Friends will bring you homemade soup when you are sick. There is almost always a kind person to help you if you are stranded on the side of the road with a flat tire. The South if full of wonderful people. If there were ever a natural disaster such as a hurricane, the best place to be is in the South because we pull together and help one another in times of need. Southern culture has taught me many good values that I live by even today.
Part of the mythology every schoolchild in the United States learns…is that the colony of Virginia achieved quick prosperity upon the basis of slaves and tobacco. Thus, “the South” is assumed to have existed as an initial settlement, with little change until the cataclysm of the Civil War in 1861.
So after graduation I decided to explore my options at the University of Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh. Wow, was this a mistake? Not only was the college to big for my own well being, but the big university provided too many distractions. This is why I feel I have finally taken the right and first step. in securing my future.
People tend to take their legs for granted. While the other girls in my school were fawning over the football players’ muscles, or their perfect hair, I was jealous of their legs. Their functional legs. It's pretty crazy to think of a 15-year-old learning how to walk, but that’s exactly where I was. In a gym full of colorful mats and loud children, all I could focus on was the heavy Polish accent of my physical therapist urging me to trust myself. I took three whole steps. I started to get over confident, thinking that I could walk way more than someone who had a three-year gap in their walking practice should. I took four more steps. I looked up at my therapist for reassurance and a slight nod of her head encouraged me to keep going. Left.
A vital element to changing emotional reactions is through is by recognizing the intrusive thoughts for what they are, thus depending on how much responsibility he or she has for taking preventative action. This cognitive approach helps reduce the distress and uneasiness that impose unwelcoming thoughts. Alongside this, behavioral therapy techniques desensitization (gradual exposure to the perceived threat) help the individual to control his or her automatic emotional thinking. I notice that I make assumptions that are negative towards myself. I tend to over-generalize the situations, thinking it is either my fault or that I am not good enough. There were many times last week where I did not react or express myself which may have lead to uncovering
As the end of my senior year in high school approached, I had to make an important decision. What school was I going to spend the next few years of my life at? When the financial aid packages arrived, I was torn between two colleges. After sitting down with my mother and discussing the advantages and disadvantages of both schools, I came to my final decision. It seemed like a year ago I was imagining what college life would be like and suddenly before my eyes, I would be a college student in a matter of four months.
It’s dark out. And it’s cold. No one wants to enter that wild beast, but the cold drives me in. The cold might be more abuse than inside, but inside is warmer. Even the lashes, even the words, even the cuts are better than outside.
At the start of sixth grade, little ol’ I decided that it would be a magnificent idea, just the best idea I have ever came up with, to play the cello, still do not regret it yet. The only reason I wanted to play the cello, was my brother, he played the viola and was excellent at it. I always wanted to be like him, he is just a great person. I was going to play the same instrument, but he told me to play the cello, being little me I just agreed to everything he said. The one concern that I used to be always certain about when I started is that I would never like playing the cello or ever be at least acceptable, as I wanted to. It was the very first year of me learning how to even play it or what notes are, no matter how much I tired or played,
I could write all day long about certain times that I nailed a final, or got above a 3 on an AP exam, or any other academic achievement. Not to say those aren't measurements of hard work and shouldn't be celebrated, but rather, none of those experiences make me unique as an individual. At this point in my life, every single person has worked hard to reach this educational level; I find greater validation in awards that can't necessarily be represented on paper. Perhaps one of my proudest moments was being able to finally utilize a foreign language. Years of practice allowed a barrier to be broken, and I was able to communicate with other humans in a way that my other classmates could not. My freshman year of high school, I took up French. I
Growing up we always have someone in our life who looks after us until we reach an age when we need less supervision. This person is also someone who we often enough look to in stressful times. For me this person is my dad. My dad and I do not always see eye to eye but we have a strong relationship that we can fall back on. The relationship has been tested at times. Things that are tested in it are disagreements, changes in view, or when I do something he thinks isn’t right. One time my dad and I took a fishing trip to Baucus Minnesota. Over this trip we had many fun times. One day we were on the boat and it was midafternoon the fish weren’t biting like they were earlier that morning. My dad wanted to leave. But I wanted to stay and fish a little while longer. He said “what’s the point of fishing if the fish aren’t biting” I responded with “what would we be doing if we were not fishing right now. I finally gave in and we got off the lake and then went to a nice restaurant and at the end of it my dad was right and we had a good day.
Being one of five children, my parents are not currently capable of aiding in paying for college; leading me to working a full time job of 40+ hours a week in order to support myself. Unfortunately, during the midst of my last semester at UNCG I became quite ill, and cut down on my hours at work which left me struggling to pay my rent and without food most days. One night while I was visiting a friend someone stole my wallet to include my student id, an item needed for a prescription pickup at the student health center. I was unable to replace the card, seeing as I could barley pay my rent, and even though I was able to present documents stating that I attended the school, I was denied my medication, which made me even more ill. Over the course
I am writing this sentence at 1:37 in the morning. I’m not anxious because I procrastinated (Okay, I’m a little anxious because I procrastinated), but because I didn’t know what I should have written about. Going back and forth in my head all night wondering which will be the right answer to an open ended question. I could have done any number of topics, but there’s always downsides. Is this too serious, too shallow, too immature? Those were all questions I asked myself while thinking about my topic, all the while wondering what everyone else will think about me. At this point, the only thing letting me write this right now is sheer exhaustion. The wonders it has on the human psyche.
I have found that there are two types of people in this world: those who run and those who endure. I have also found that figuring out which one fits you is one of the biggest challenges in life, because it is only through extreme trial and tribulation one can truly test themselves. My trial happened overseas in the small, coastal county of Ballyharry, Donegal.
Have you ever smelled the air the day after it rains? It’s an indescribable feeling that has the power to make a person reminisce. I immediately think back to my first home in the year of 2006, where my mind seems to limit its recollection of childhood. As a 10 year old, while attending my last year at Port Richmond Elementary School, my family and I were evicted because I lived with two addicts who were constantly in conflict. Consequently, I moved in with my grandmother and attended Fulton Elementary School. I hated waking up for school, found the homework and teachers to be insufferable, and I found myself worrying more about the violence and disruption in my home than school. At the start of the next school year, my family and I were evicted
My parents have always told me that if I would try hard enough and never let anything knock me down I would be something special. They have taught me that if I was inspired to do better than I would do better. All throughout my life people have inspired me to become the person that I am today; my teachers, coaches, peers, and family have given me enough inspiration to last a lifetime and I will always remember their encouraging words while going through hardship. The best part about living in a small town is that everyone knows you and what you’re going through, so it is not atypical to hear encouraging words when you are feeling low. The worst memory that I have a blessing of remembering was on October 10, 2015; the day that changed everything