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Personal narratives essays
Personal narratives essays
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I am blind. But I was not always blind. I once experienced the majesty of a sunrise in late August and the awe of the deep blue sea as the sun glistens from it. Now I have only my memories to comfort me. So they sent me here, a field trip, a good experience they say, to help me cope. They sent me to a deaf school for the day, unknowing of how awkward it is for me. They gave me a buddy, but for what? We can?t communicate through speech or sign language. ? You?ll figure it out,? they say. So now I sit here, alone and desolate in darkness, hoping for the occasional memory to write upon the blank screen of my vision and bring life to this seemingly dead place.
And so I sit. The chair is hard and cold as stone, like a cement chair in a jail cell. It is firm, but not strong, it squeaks and wobbles around like a fish out of water. I reach down to make sure all four legs are there. Yes, there?s four, four cold smooth spears symbolizing my demise. Spears ready to leap forward and devour me if I make the slightest wrong or sudden move. I stretch out my arms, trying to find my surroundings. To the left, nothing but air. To the right, another spear, but not like the others this spears lies on its side like the rails in my bathroom. My hand follows the cold rod. It hits something leaving a sting and cracking my thumb as it crushes against my hand. This must be the desk. I glide my hand along the smooth surface felling all the little bumps of eraser left behind. I feel along the sides and touch the rigid edges where pens have been dug in deep like sharp wounds giving the desk a unique personality. As my fingertips reach the center, I realize just how close the desk is, only about five inches away from my rapidly beatin...
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... down the hall and I encounter a revelation of thought. We are going outside. I run faster now and burst through the front doors into the great heaven. I can smell fresh cut grass on the horizon and the soft warm rays of the sun finally beam down on my face. I breath the fresh cool air and listen. My bird has come back again and sings over the crackling flames and sirens of the trucks. It sings because it is free, it sings a victory praise for me because now I am free. I sit down on the wet grass and what I understand to be my buddy takes my hand. On my hand she spells out two letters. Two letters that say everything. She spells out ?O? ?K? and I cry because I know that no matter what happens or how much I have to suffer, in the end it?s okay because I am alive and I am free. So I am still blind, but now I am blind and loving it!
The book, ‘Alone in the Mainstream,’ is a collection of interviews spliced together thematically with parallels to the author 's life. It covers everything from Teachers, good and bad, to friends, bullies, classes and all other parts of growing up. The common theme gluing them all together is not solitude as the book states, but difference felt by the interviewee or the author. Several of the sections, namely the ones about great teachers and great friends, show that deaf people are not alone, but that their experience is vastly different.
In this article, “The Deaf Body in Public Space,” Rachel Kolb explains how interacting with people who do not understand sign language could be difficult. With her hearing disability she struggled to communicate with her peers. Kolb further explains the different situations she has encountered with people and comments that are made with first intercommunications. Going further she also mentions how she struggles with two languages and two modes of communication.
move the red sweater to the corner of my desk with my ruler. I move my pencil and
Based on the reactions of the interview, I decided to conduct an experiment for a couple of hours with my friend to be deaf. We went to a nearby bakery to buy vanilla cake. Like the usual, once we opened the doors of the bakery we were greeted by the employees. They asked us what we would like to order, so I smiled, and gestured by pointing to my ear that I cannot hear them. They were confused a bit, looking at my friend to help them. To which my friend also pointed to her ear, to tell them she was deaf too. Once I gained their attention, I used American sign language to sign the word write. By that, they quickly understood that I wanted a sheet of paper and
I wasn’t even outside but I could feel the warm glow the sun was projecting all across the campsite. It seemed as if the first three days were gloomy and dreary, but when the sun on the fourth day arose, it washed away the heartache I had felt. I headed out of the trailer and went straight to the river. I walked to the edge, where my feet barely touched the icy water, and I felt a sense of tranquility emanate from the river. I felt as if the whole place had transformed and was back to being the place I loved the most. That day, when we went out on the boat, I went wakeboarding for the first time without my grandma. While I was up on the board and cutting through the wake of the boat, it didn’t feel like the boat was the one pulling and guiding me, it felt like the river was pushing and leading me. It was always nice to receive the reassurance from my grandma after wakeboarding, but this time I received it from my surroundings. The trees that were already three times the size of me, seemed to stand even taller as I glided past them on the river. The sun encouraged me with its brightness and warmth, and the River revitalized me with its powerful currents. The next three days passed by with ease, I no longer needed to reminisce of what my trips used to be like. Instead, I could be present in the moment, surrounded by the beautiful natural
As a hearing person in a hearing environment I do not come across a lot of deaf people. I have only encountered three deaf people and in the three situations it was hard for me understanding them. Now I am taking an ASL class and it has been one of the best choices I have made in my educational path. The event I was able to go was the Deaf Pizza Night at Shakey's in Garden Grove. It was on July 16 from 6pm-8pm. There were only 5 deaf people in the event and a lot of ASL students. One of the 5 deaf persons in the Deaf Event was Rennie. He was kind to tell the others that not a lot of deaf people went to the event because the venue was too small. Instead they met at Starbucks located at the Outlets of Orange. Rennie was the only one who was approaching the students the other 4
Nery was able to join me to the ice cream social and when we got there the vibe was very nice. She immediately introduce herself and I followed. She signed slow so I could understand. I signed about me and we had a conversation. Nery had to leave early because the following day she had class in the morning. She was only able to stay there for about 30 minutes. I was thankful she had gone because she helped me to not be shy, to open up, and to start a conversation. Going to the socially reminded me of how the social is no different than hanging out around people of other cultures. For example if a group of Latinos were socializing and an African American person goes in the social group he might get eyed different but as soon as he joins and starts speaking Spanish with the Latinos they open up as well. These are all language barriers we break. Personally, communicating in sign language is very difficult but I do explain that I'm currently taking my first course. I sign slow and use a lot of classifiers because they tend to be smoother for me. I enjoyed my mint chocolate with coconut shavings at this deaf
Unfamiliarity, in the broadest sense, can evoke a feeling of fear or anxiety. However, my unique cultural upbringing has made me comfortable with unfamiliarity, and eager to embrace differences among people with compassion and tolerance. I am the product of a cultural infusion—I was born in the United Kingdom to an English father, but was influenced by the Turkish customs of my mother. While living in England, I grew up eating dinner on the floor, listening to Turkish music on the radio, and waking up to a poster of Kemal Ataturk. I spent every summer living in Turkey where I learned the language, saw the way different people lived, and became familiar with the practices of Islam. At 14 years old I was immersed in yet another culture when I
Over hundreds of years, the deaf have surpassed criticism, dubiousness, and many rights that hearing people had that they did not. Through great controversy with the hearing the deaf were able to interject themselves into the hearing world over many years. Deaf went through a time when they were known as ‘retards’ and put in asylums for their hearing disabilities. But when sign language was finally discovered by Thomas Gallaudet and brought to the united states by both him and Laurent Clerc, the deaf became better understood. But, it took many years for the Deaf to earn the reverence they have today.
Being confronted to the unknown can be challenging and unpleasant. In his short story entitled “Cathedral” Raymond Carver portrays the journey of a man’s personal thought and understanding about life. Blindness is unfamiliar for the narrator, but when his wife decides to invite the blind man she has been corresponding with for several years to their house, he has no choice but being confronted with it. The journey of the main character in this short story reveals the difference between seeing and understanding.
Failure isn’t always something you have control of or have the ability to predict. Failure seems to happen at the worst of times; however we need to accept it, because you cannot always win. My greatest failure would be tearing my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL), my junior year in a lacrosse game, through no fault of my own in which my body physically failed me, but it truly changed my aspect of life in multiple ways.
While trying to think about a time being distracted has affected me, I realized that while writing this essay my phone was constantly catching my attention. I purposely isolated myself in my basement apartment away from sister and her kids to have complete focus on the task at hand. I really want to deliver a well thought out essay, but my phone keeps ringing and I become more distracted.
It was a dreadful afternoon, big droplets of rain fell directly on my face and clothes. I tasted the droplets that mixed with my tears, the tears I cried after the incident. The pain in my foot was excruciating. It caused me to make a big decision of whether I should visit you or not. I decided I would. I limped towards my bright, blue car where my bony, body collapsed onto the seat. I started the engine up but at the same time being cautious of my bleeding foot. I then drove to the destination where I was bound to meet you. I was bound to meet you after three years of counselling from my last appearance with you. I guess all I can remember is the scarring....
The first feeling was when my eyes were closed was that how can i do everyday life activity but after an hour I was comfortable being blind. This made me think that if I was really blind and how could makes my life goes on easily by not worrying that I am not going to bump into obstacles. My first accomplishment was I successfully walk from Ms.Kate class to the toilet by not using my helper and able to use the toilet fluently. I was confident that be able to walk fluently. This made know the feeling of the person who is blind and if a see a blind person I will be happy to know that they can live their life by not have their eye but it able them to be a good listener to us. People that don’t really know how the feeling of being blind is but if you try like what I do. They think being blind is easy for blind people but it is hard for them at first that they know that they are blind. It is difficult for them to adapt from having eyes to not having eyes. They needs time to be comfortable without having their and some people treat them badly. After all, being blind for them is harder then when you have an eyes. Being blind for a day made me understand how hard to be blind to inspire me that to take cares of your eye and use my eye wisely.
As I depart from the kitchen, I walk into the living room. There is a terrifying ugly brown couch with a crocheted throw draped over it. Two more Lazy-Boy chairs sit by it. On the opposite side of the room from me is a stone fireplace with shelves built on either side of it. These shelves are filled with books on every topic one can think of. Subjects range from the Civil War to cooking and mechanics. Above the fireplace rests an old, dependable clock. As it strikes the hour with its dings and dongs, I know I am where I belong. I am home.