Personal Narrative: Diversity In Chicago

Being a first-generation Canadian and when Canada is as diverse as it is, I never got the opportunity to truly connect with my own religion. I realized early on that having that knowledge of diversity provides a competitive advantage in the business environment, as communication and connections are easily built. To accomplish this, I decided to join the International Languages Program in grade 6; however, even with the four years I spent in the program, I never truly built the connection that I had so desired. It was not until grade 12 when I had that opportunity, as David Suzuki Secondary School (D.S.S.S.) introduced its first ever Sikh Student Association (S.S.A.), a collection of numerous Sikhs throughout D.S.S.S. Upon joining this club,

Challenges are events that are used to change you for the better should you choose it accept it. The challenges I have faced wasn’t a matter of choice but of something that I have no control over. Some people will tell you it’s a burden, some say it’s an entitlement or free ride. Science says it’s just having a high amount of melatonin due to geographical location for survival. To me though, being black probably one of the biggest challenges a human can have in America at least I find it terribly perplexing.

Like the classic saying has it “You can take the kid out of Brooklyn but you can’t take the Brooklyn out of the kid.” Same goes for Chicago this is my story. I was born in the windy city, on the south side. I wasn’t there for that long I was there till my fifth birthday, and then I moved to Boston, Ma with my mother, sister and I. However, I believe that south side raised me because every winter and summer vacation I would visit my grandmother or as she liked to be called “Mo-Mo” While visiting her I’ve seen some pretty harsh situations.

In the past I have struggled with my biracial identity. As a child I was confused about which community I belonged in because I am a mix of Navajo and Caucasian. As I got older, I began to question myself and who I was. I felt like I did not belong to either the Native or Caucasian community because in both groups I felt like someone else. I felt as if I had to live two lives that were completely separated.

As Americans we should examine our communities, cities, and close nit circles, in doing so we can create a clearer depiction of what makes us more at ease with persons that we associate with. During his essay, Brooks shares an array of examples that show diversity isn’t as common as one would think.

Building this diversity wheel was both fun, and super stressful. Trying to divided up and put together your life into a wheel was quite difficult. The three things in my inner wheel to have the greatest impact on myself would be my educational back round, religion, and recreational habits. This exercise really made my reflect on what makes me who i am. I hated making this wheel at time because i had to make the wheel over and over trying to get it to make sense and match me life the best as i could.

One night, during the cold winter, I walked along the side walk to reach the local store down the block. As I walked out, before I can realize it, I was dropping down onto the concrete while bullets swiftly passed me. I then began to run back home, but I wanted to keep running. Away from Chicago, away from the west side. Growing up in Chicago, it was easy to assume that there was nothing different beyond the blocks of my streets.

The town I moved to introduced me to many wonderful teachers and peers, but it is definitely the epitome of small town, USA. Since the town boasts a small population, it is home to very little diversity. Moving to my new home taught me a very important lesson in the importance of differing cultures. I had believed earlier that every town in our nation identified with their own types of diversity, but Tipp City exhibited that this was not always the case. I learned what I truly miss most about life in the Army: its diversity.

MEMOIR: INTERVIEW WILLIAM WU I 'm a first generation Asian-American. I was born in Lima, Peru, right before my parents came to America from China, and we moved to America when I was one. Growing as a first generation American, my parents worked a lot. I can 't say that I wasn 't loved, but my bond with my parents was weak because I was always home alone, being babysat by others, or going out because they had to work.

From as early as I could remember I noticed I was not like the others kids. I had an interest for things most kids would not be interested in. I liked interacting with people, knowing about people and their life stories; I wanted to help in anyway that I could when I would hear everyone’s problems. I thought outside the box throughout my whole childhood and I wanted to make the most out of my knowledge. I told myself that I was going to dedicate my life to helping my community.

I grew up in inner city Baltimore Maryland. Neither of my parents were or are followers of Christ. They divorced when I was very young. I spent most of my life moving from place to place with my mother and two brothers. I gave up on high school when I failed my freshmen year.

MY EXPERIENCE AS AN AFRICAN IN AMERICA Arriving in the US three months ago I honestly thought it would be easy to introduce myself as African and be understood and accepted. I said to myself "they are black just like you so what is the worse that could happen?" But the experiences I have had so far have made me realize that life in the US is not all that it is made out to be. I always assumed that black to black racism did not exist but to my utmost shock, it does exist. I realize now that it goes beyond being a part of the same race.

The negative treatment and pain I received as a black girl, and still into my adulthood, it amazes me how I'm still standing tall and strong. It amazes me how people have tried to break me, even my own kind, but I'm still here. Truth is I gotta to have thick skin and protect myself, because I got no choice. If I don't... who will? And that is the everyday life of living as a black woman.

“Bang!” The gun fires off, and the race starts at that instant. As I spring from my starting position I look in the corner of my eye, to see another runner leading the pack. I concentrated all of my energy into the race, my legs burning from the intensity, however, it was not enough for me to clench the sweet taste of victory. I turned up at the finish line with 2nd place.

Everyday, my trip from home to school is more than a commute— it’s a transitional period. I have to take the time out of my day to accept that I’ll go from being with my family to with my friends; that I’ll go from being of the racial majority to the racial minority. Even after 4 years, this daily transition is tough for me— I’ve never been in a school that lacks so much diversity. A lot of the people that I go to school with are rarely faced with a race or culture that they are unfamiliar with, sadly justifying their perpetual ignorance. I try my best to put my peers first, and act in a way that makes them comfortable, even if I’m uncomfortable doing