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When I think of a place, I perfectly content, I immediately think of the country where I was born 16 years ago. I am from the country of peace, hardworking, caring, and happiness. I am from middle North of Vietnam where I had to walk to school 6 days a week under the hot weather of 99*F. I am from the house with metal roofing, the place with air pollution all year surrounded by Vietnamese people. I am from a great family, eat lunch together, elbows off the table, and asking permission to be excused. That is who I am….. I lived in Vietnam for 11 years and every single one of my family had work to do. They opened the restaurant and sole food and made money out of it. Other sibling and step brothers and step sister went to school and had …show more content…
That was the time I realized that I’ve done so much for my family and I barely had time to draw cartoon and play hide and seek with my friends. Back in Vietnam, I was really small and didn’t know anything. My brother and I got bullied by our step sister, she forced us to follow her rules and when she told us to do something we had to do it for her. She hit us with the broom and slapped us whenever we did a small mistake and made us cry most of the day. My dad couldn't do anything about it because she was his daughter of his first wife --(she passed away because of the illness) after he married my mom and I had me and my brother. My mom sometimes just angry and yelled at her but it seemed like nothing to her. My mom loved us by sending us to our grandparents who lived an hour away from my house and let us lived there for a while during summer vacation instead of going back home and doing work for my step sister. When we had a good time at our grandparents house, no one helped my mom and dad with serving food and things so they were rushing and we heard after one of those nights, my dad got in a fight with my mom and he took the empty beer bottle and hit her on the head and those tiny splinters were everywhere on her head, he beated her and punched her on her body and we were crying really hard and just wanted to see her at that
It was my senior year of high school, I was sixteen, getting ready to turn seventeen. It was my senior year of high school. I was not your typical girl wearing makeup everyday and worrying about getting dolled up for school. I did not play sports. Don’t get me wrong, I would get all dolled up if I had something special to do like go to a school dance. I had a part time job at Olive garden because my parents motto was “if you do not play a sport you need to work!” My mom used to say to me “you know Alana back in my time I was not able to work so you are very lucky you're able to work.
Soldier's Personal Narratives of the Vietnam War and The Vietnam War and the Tragedy of Containment
It was the evening of Christmas, 1776. The voice of an army sergeant shouted, “Everybody, up this instant! We’ve got a battle to win!” George Washington’s order awoke us soldiers, and we prepared for a rough night, as General Washington knew it would be more than strenuous to get the Continental Army, made up of 2,400 men, across the Delaware River especially in such harsh weather conditions. The plan was to attack in the morning since the Hessians would be celebrating Christmas tonight, they will hopefully be too tired to put up a fight tomorrow morning. The cold, brisk air intruded into the tent, as the rest of the soldiers arose from their slumber, not knowing what the day would bring them, or should I say, night.
Every person has an American Dream they want to pursue, achieve and live. Many people write down goals for themselves in order to get to their dream. Those never ending goals can range from academic to personal. As of today, I am living my dream. My American Dream is to become a nurse, travel to many places, have a family, and get more involved with God.
As I stood there exhausted holding a blank stare with my arms to my sides and the sound of mumbling in the background, I only heard three words of the entire training brief my supervisor gave us, “time for chow!” I immediately snapped back to it and walked in the same direction as my teammates. As I walked, I looked ahead of the group for the best place to get out of the 103-degree hot Texas sun. I seen a tree and a stump that would be great to rest my back on and it had plenty of shade. When I arrived at the stump, I set my rifle down and quickly took off my training gear that felt like an extra body hanging on my shoulders. At the same moment that I felt like I could take a break from the training day and let my guard down, I heard one of
It was the last Saturday in December of 1997. My brother, sister, and I were chasing after each other throughout the house. As we were running, our parents told us to come and sit down in the living room. They had to tell us something. So, we all went down stairs wondering what was going on. Once we all got down stairs, the three of us got onto the couch. Then, my mom said, “ Well…”
The routines we experienced in familiar settings are what allow us to desire a pool of shared meanings. “Often this carries over into people’s attitudes and feelings about themselves and their locality” (). For instance, I was born in Brooklyn, New York, but was raised in Puerto Rico. I spent 10 years of my childhood in Puerto Rico. Puerto Rico is beautiful, is full of life and happiness.
When I was seventeen I nervously traveled about 350 miles from my sleepy little home town of Freedom, Wyoming to the relatively enormous city of Boise, Idaho to go to the Military Entrance Processing Station. This wasn 't the first time I had been this far from home by myself, but it was the first time I was making adult decisions without my parents involvement. When it came time for me to choose my job in the army the counselors presented me with a long list that I qualified for. I got tired of scrolling and reading so I chose the first job that I actually understood. I returned home and excitedly told my parents that I would be an infantry soldier. My dad 's response to this might be considered a little less than heart warming “You dumb ass. Why didn 't you choose
I cried in my room for hours wishing my dad would not go, a whole month without him seemed like the end of the world. I would have no one to play hockey with, no one to tuck me in at night and no one to eat donuts with every Friday. My dad tried to console me but I was too angry to listen to him, I suddenly hated my grandpa for causing my dad to leave me alone. At the airport my dad gave me a long hug and told me to be brave since I was now “the man of the house,” (even though I am a girl), I had to take care of my mom. Promptly this made me suck in my tears and stop acting like a “loser.” It was hard repressing my feelings, seeing my dad leave made my eyes tear severely but I held them back, the man of the house does not cry. Time went by faster when I was at school, I had less time to miss my dad. About two weeks later, my mom got a call from India, my grandpa had died. My mom broke down crying, she slammed the phone across the room into the wall. I felt scared to appr...
When the end of my 5th grade year had hit; A land mark of the most traumatizing event of my life was about to take place. My mom had left my father and took us along with her. Over the summer and a few addit...
It’s just like a women describing being pregnant, you never fully understand or relate unless you yourself has ever been pregnant. It’s like being in a suspended reality, there’s not really one place above others that I truly consider my home. When in Scotland, we talk about visiting ‘home’ and how much we miss it but when we’re over in the Philippines, we feel the need to go back here, a place we also consider our ‘home’. The pleasant experience of having spent time in another country is that you eventually become a part of it, eventually get attached to its way of life, and become one of its
I was in my first year of Middle School and preparing for another Halloween party. My parents broke up just before I was 4 years old and I have lived with my dad since. My older sister lives with my mom and I rarely got to see her. She was my half sister.
I have opinions of all the places I have lived. Each place has its advantages and disadvantages, and I am not sure if there is any place that really fits me well. In this essay, I will examine the bad and good aspects of some of the places I have lived. Then, I will compare what I consider to be "ideal" conditions with the good aspects of those places where I have lived. Lastly, I will choose the place that I think is best for me.
A place, for me, is somewhere that I am familiar with and I recognize it in some way as my own special geographic location. It is somewhere I am emotionally attached to and it is a place that I wish to remain at. I personally feel that it has taken me years to achieve this particular comprehension about where for certain that place is for me in my life, and to make out why I feel a certain way about being within the walls of my own home. I have now come to realize that my home is where my heart will always truly be, because I believe it is the only place where I will always be loved without
It was Friday morning and I was in the 5th grade at the time. My father decided to pull both me and my brother out of school. My mother wasn’t home. She had already gone up to the hospital with my grandmother.