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Personal Narrative- Transformation of a Hurting Teen
Before I lost my innocence I was care-free, and full of love. But I grew up and my peers began to tease me. “Am I really fat, ugly, stupid and dorky”? I thought. Every loving part of me was torn apart piece by piece by my young peers like wolves on the prowl. Every fault and every flaw I owned was brought to my attention. This teasing spawned an anger in me so strong that every aspect of my life was destroyed. I began to rebel towards any kind of authority as a way to protect myself. I felt that every breathing thing was out to hurt me.
When I was fifteen years of age, this rebellion turned juvenile and I began to get into quite a bit of trouble with my parents and teachers. I was sent to House of Hope, a home for hurting teen...
American History by Judith Ortiz Cofer is a short story that presents the audience with an average teenager 's emotions. The main character, Elena, lives in a cramped ghetto-like building that is looked down upon by the public eye. Elena is shy has difficulty reaching out to others to make friends, but when a new boy named Eugene moves in across the street from her, she eventually takes a step outside of her boundaries and confronts him, hoping that they can at the least be friends. However, the public view of her lifestyle makes Eugene 's mom turn Elena away and they never get a chance to meet.
Posnanski, Joe. “College Athletes Should Not Be Paid.” Norton Sampler: Short Essays for Composition, 8th ed. Pages 584-590. 2013.
Luzer, Daniel. "College Guide: The Profit in College Sports." The Washington Monthly. N.p., 18 Sept. 2013. Web. 8 Apr. 2014.
In the morning after eating breakfast, I would get this feeling in my gut that something bad was going to happen to me in school. Sometimes nothing happened. Other times I would just get bullied and get into fights but I would always be blamed for starting it. I couldn’t defend myself because I didn’t know English and my mom as well, so I didn’t tell her anything about what was going on or anyone. I kept my mouth shut like the bully told me to. Throughout the years’ I felt so alone, depressed, things a child shouldn’t experience or feel. When the school year was done, I had failed 3rd grade. One day I was going to the park and I got jumped by the same bullies from my school they had taken my money my mom gave me and beat me up. I woke up laying on the ground and night was nearing. I was filled with anger and I screamed “NO! MORE!” repeatedly. During the summer I thought if learning English even if it’s a little bit, can get me a chance to move on from this depressing time, I would grab that chance. Every day after summer school, I would go to the public library and see if there were any books that taught basic English. Good thing the librarian’s assistant knew Spanish. During that time, I learned that I didn’t need any ones’ help, I had me and only
During this stage both of my parents did a splendid job of guiding me on life’s path of knowing between right and wrong. Again, I think I came out of this stage with a balanced sense of both “Autonomy vs Shame &
According to Erikson, individuals are presented with crises that they must overcome in order to advance to the next stage of lifespan development. The psychological maltreatment that I experienced during my preschool years and continuing through to late adolescence, would have lessened my ability to succeed at the crisis presented and in the creation of a positive self-concept. During the time my pivotal experience took place, I would have been nearing the completion of Erikson’s Initiative vs Guilt stage (Feldman & Landry, 2012). The crisis presented during this stage is for the child to develop independence from their caregivers while learning to adequately contend with the guilt stemming from failure (Feldman & Landry, 2012). During this stage, I would have experienced an increased awareness of myself as an individual capable of making decisions and operating within a capacity separate form my caregivers. Returning to the example provided in this paper, one can see that the following occurred: 1. I assessed a situation to be harmful to my well-being; 2. I made a decision to tell my mother about the situation; 3. I received punishment for acting independently. My mother’s reaction to my attempt at independence not only made me question whether my concern had been fabricated or if it was as I recall her screaming at me “lies, lies, lies your
Lewis, Michael, and Bob Williams. "SHOULD COLLEGE FOOTBALL PLAYERS BE PAID?" New York Times Upfront Nov 17 2008: 22. ProQuest. Web. 25 Nov. 2013.
Daugherty, Paul. "College athletes already have advantages and shouldn't be paid." Sports Illustrated. Sports Illustrated, 20 Jan. 2012. Web. 25 Apr. 2014. http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2012/writers/paul_daugherty/01/20/no.pay/
Paying college athletes has been an ongoing controversy for many years because of the NCAA’s mission to position their athletes as students first and foremost; but, are student athletes really going to college to get an education or to prepare for turning professional. Some argue that athletes are paid already with the compensation given such as free tuition, housing, athletic clothing, etc. However, others claim that athletes are not paid their fair market value. Zach Dirlam, a senior analyst for the Bleacher Report, and Jeff Dorfman, a contributor to Forbs, examine paying college athletes for two different audiences in their respective articles “There’s No Crying in College: The Case Against Paying College Athletes” and “Pay College Athletes?
It’s amazing how a horrific and negative life changing event can encourage and guide you in the path of your future. The end result may not be visible when it first takes place, but the process of a recovery can be extremely educational. You see, I was provided the opportunity of job shadowing firsthand the fields of athletic training and physical therapy due to a knee injury. I believe the majority of people would consider a severely damaged knee a dramatic setback in life. I was able to find the silver lining during the recovery.
People look at you like you’re the one to blame. They see your tattered sneakers and tangled, greasy hair, and they think they know you. But how could they? You amble down the sidewalk, keep your head down, your eyes averted. You don’t want any trouble. People are quick to assume that's what you're looking for. Your lips are chapped and your face is dirty. You cannot remember the last time you brushed your teeth, let alone took a shower. The thought makes you laugh almost as much as the thought of your old bedroom walls, the shadows cast by the ceiling fan as you stared up from your bed. You had to leave home. It was taken from you. The adults in your life shifted as you grew older, or perhaps you just grew aware. They took pills or tipped glasses or screamed at you for no particular reason. They kicked you out when you got pregnant, when you got mouthy, when you weren't all they wanted you to be. They got sadistic. They crossed unspeakable lines. You had to leave home. You are barely more than a child. At least, you were before. Now, you are homeless.
From joking around in class, trying to poison your second grade teacher, and knocking everything off your fifth grade teachers desk every morning, your behavior in class would make your teachers form negative opinions about you and would speak negatively about you. Most teachers concluding that you would never amount to anything. However, you never saw the wrong in what you were doing; you just saw all the fun you were having. On the other hand, your mom did not seem to take it that way, she would always tell you, “acting this way is just gonna lead you straight to jail”. And one day it did; your mom got fed up with your bad behavior, and everyday after school she would take you to the old jail downtown. You would have to sit in a jail cell all alone for hours. If you were in my shoes, the harsh words of your elementary school teachers and sitting in a jail cell would be the catalyst to your hunger for
It was dark that night, I was nervous that this dreadful day was going to get worse. Sunday, October 23, 1998 I wanted to start writing this to tell about the weird things i’m starting to see in this new neighborhood. Gradually I keep seeing pots and pans on the sink suddenly move to the floor. I would ask my sister but she is out with my mom and dad getting the Halloween costumes. When they got home I didn’t tell them what I saw because i've seen Halloween movies and I have to have dissimulation otherwise the ghost will come out and get me first. October 24, 1998 I think I got a little nervous yesterday with the whole ghost thing. 12:32pm, Went to eat lunch with the family today and I go to get my coat. I heard the words furious and madness,
From my birth until just recently, I was blanketed by the darkness of an unavoidable false reality; childhood. While it was admittingly care-free, blissful, and were the happiest moments of my life, it fed me false information about the world. The experiences and adult figures in my life were the, “puppeteers,” (para. 1), showing me mere, “shadows, [and the] shadows of one another.” (Para. 5) And I could only see these shadows of reality because I was, “prevented by the chains,” (Para. 1) of ignorance and lack of experience that comes standard with being a child.
As a child I was bullied at school by my classmates and for this reason I dreaded going to school. At a very young age I made myself believe that I was ugly and overweight, I would hear it so much in school that soon enough that is what I would tell myself. I was a very depressed child, with parents that could not understand what was happening. Therefore I kept it to myself. Until one day I ...