...One of the lessons I learn every year in high school revolves around the theme of identity. “Who am I?” is the question I ask myself frequently. It’s very typical for high schoolers to be confused and constantly change how they view themselves. The figurative cards that they hold might be one of the reasons they change their minds. I don’t know what kinds of cards other applicants were dealt, but the my deck will be face up. In 1998, I was adopted from China by a single parent. Growing up, I knew I was different from other kids around me. My mom had me read plenty of books about being different. We even talked about and embraced my Chinese roots. As time went on, the differences I saw between myself and the people in my community seemed to fade. I managed to fit in quite well in little Kittery, Maine. Now for the irony: saying how I fit in, when the whole point is to show how I stand out. My ability to fit in, however, can be applied to a variety of different groups. I fit in on a sports team, on a robotics team, in the music world, in an academic club, or an animal service program. My versatility and ability to fit in with any group allows me to feel comfortable as I learn new experiences and information. I can later apply the of one area...
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...These statements are common examples of how many people view their race and identity. Even though many are unsure or unaware of what it really means to have a culture, we make claims about it everyday. Some feel they have a race, while others simply feel they do not. We include based on who fits into this ideal and exclude those who don’t. Our knowledge of culture, ethnicity and identity is subconsciously internalized on a daily basis through constant social interactions. Although there were many times I was surrounded by my own culture and race, it had taken me years to become comfortable within my own skin. I grew up with two...
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...the middle of the road but I just keep brushing that nightmare of my mind because I have better things to think about. I realized that I only have twenty minutes long, not adding the traffic time. Heading out to the front door with an apple in my mouth, I started the engine of my car then I started the engine of my car then I started noticing the droplets on my windshield and thinking to myself “Crap, I don’t have any umbrella in my car. I guess, I have to run as fast as I can to get inside the office”. As I sat down on my comfy chair, hair dripping wet and with wet sticky socks, I started...
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...walls could talk”? Technically, my walls can talk. My walls tell my life story. If a stranger were to walk into my room, that person would immediately know a lot about me just from looking around and observing the objects I have in my room. The stranger will find some good things and some some bad things about my identity that make me who I am. To find out more about me they will have to look deeper into all aspects of my objects to find out more about my true self. Usually, a person's room can be a direct reflection of their identity. As a college freshman that used to live in the dorms, I could see that fact in my own room. My old roommate and I have certain things in our space that portray our different identities. I believe that by analyzing a person or a “roommates” living space, one can find out a great deal about that persons identity, as well as, teach you so much about yourself....
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...of it. It’s also super grippy. But most importantly, it’s MY grip. That’s it’s identity. It’s formed to my hands. The rubber is worn around the areas where I grasp the club every swing. Other people may not like the grip. It’s not their’s. It feels weird to them. This is how I understood identity in my multi-paragraph essay. Identity is a crucial theme in The Tribes of Palos Verdes. In a community where women conform to very specific “lady-like” meta Medina is firmly a tom-boy, and a surfer. It’s who she is. She stands by that and gets hell for it. Her identity is different than their’s so she gets picked...
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...Identity I’ve been identified by many labels, but many of them have come from first glances. Although I have many things that I can be identified by, there are a few common things that I and other people have observed. One thing people see me as, is humorous. I’ve realized that I will always try to make someone laugh to feel better about myself. It’s a way of self-verification when I witness others laughing and acknowledging me as a “someone” to them. Another word I am labeled as is kind. I always make sure that I am friendly and considerate of others. Trustworthiness is a trait that I am also recognized by. My friends can always trust me with their secrets, and I am reliable when it is appropriate.Those were just three of the many labels...
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...perceives us. This is called our identity. Our identity is a collection of the unique differences we possess and what ties us together in groups, clubs, or even countries. I observe myself as a person who is particularly dedicated. The identity I have formed for myself has shaped the way I interact with classmates, friends, and family. It defines who I am today and who I will be tomorrow. Dedication has pushed me, kept me back, warped my perceptions and ideals, and has given me my drive to succeed. My commitment and ability to fully apply myself and focus on a single...
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...What is my identity? That is a loaded question, because there are so many different aspects that make up who I am. I am a white, middle-class, heterosexual, cis-female. I’m very privileged in this position and I acknowledge that. I will never go through the struggles that someone apart of the LBGT+ or other races will go through. I will never have to worry about disappointing my parents because I wasn’t the sexuality they wanted me to be. I will never have to worry about which bathroom I can use. I will never have to even worry that someone won’t hire me for some reason other than I’m not qualified or the best choice. A strong part of who I am and take pride in is that I’m a woman. I have never been the most “girly girl” but as I’ve grown...
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...Individual Assignment 1 At this point in my life, I have a very good understanding of who I am and how I identify myself. Identity could include aspects of your life that you have no control over, such as where you grew up, as well as choices you make, such as how you spend your time. Through much trial and error, I have developed myself to know my limits and strengths. Often, our identity can be portrayed through what we wear and how we interact with others. You may also keep elements of yourself shut away from the world, especially if they are very important to you. My identity consists of more than what I am willing to share. Currently, I am a fully devoted student and part-time worker. I graduate with my Bachelor’s at the end of October...
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...from a family of six, including me. I have a mom, a dad, as long with three other siblings. I come from a very close immediate family. I have gone to private schools my whole life up until now. So, What could possibly be my identity? Some may say i'm a caring guy, others might say i'm an athlete , but in the end, I'll let you decide what you think my identity is. Growing up we were all pretty close, I guess you could say I was a family person, we would always be with each other no matter if we had a choice or not. Since my youngest brother and I always got dragged into going to our older siblings sports, him and I were like bestfriends. My younger brother Jake who is the youngest of the family and I would always argue and bicker, no matter how stupid the subject was, but in the end we were always there for each other. For example Jake and I still argue today who is taller, even though he is I still say I am. Jake brought out my debating identity of myself....
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...My Identity Change is one of the things that can straighten the present. Looking back, it is easy to realize how different life is overtime, values and communication style in between different cultures. Now I am trying to write about the culture I have and try to adapt myself to another and that’s one of the reason makes me to be stronger and mature in my life also in my future life. I was born, and raised in a country named Iran. Although, my family were from Armenian generation. I lived in an environment where I needed to familiarize to both cultures, impress my identity and personality. After I graduated from high school my family decided to immigrate to the United States, so I can have grader opportunities to achieve my goals. I believe...
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...Identity is the characteristic which makes one special. Identity must struggle with life experience and environment. Just like Nancy Solomon mentions in her article, "Because sometimes people who are just like us are our mirror, what we're capable of." Many factors such as religions, families, friends and personality can result in shaping identity. For me, Identity has a significant effect of choosing my friend,especially when I was in adolescence. As Valerie Ulene states in her article, "Kids are most susceptible to their peers' influence during middle school,around the age of 13 or 14." My identity not only affects whom I choose to be my friends, but also impacts my choices or decisions. Three years ago, I came to US as a young international student. As a freshman of American school life, I needed to face a serious problem- how could I make friends. In another word, it was kind of a choice about the way of living for me. At first, I identified myself as a new English learner, which means I could not communicated with others in English successfully. In this case, I decided to make friends with others who speak the same language to me. Today, when I review my experience, I notice that the reason is because I...
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...I was born to a lower middle class family, at the McKee Medical Center. They are the ones to give me my first nickname, Catie, like my father wanted, and that’s how I started my life. I grew up as Catie, my friends, my family, and I, myself, knew me as Catie. It wasn’t Cathrine, or Cathrine Sarah, but Catie. I lived my first couple years going by this nickname, and I loved it. I even felt possessive over my name. It was mine, not the girls sitting next to me, I didn’t care about being called by a name given to me due to the pressures of society, the requirements of a specific name that would be used to place me in a specific group of people for a specific job position. I was free to choose what I wanted to be called, in school I went my Catie, it was my way to keep control of my life where control had been taken away from me. It was a personal right to change it as I saw fit, I had to abide by a strict schedule, a schedule set by those who were above...
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...ethnicity, then eventually it leads you to your identity. My last name, Janser, comes from Germany. However, my identity is not German, is Hispanic. My parents were immigrants that came from Honduras over 20 years ago. My father never finished high school and came to this country to leave the gangs and violence in his community to come to this country and be a successful. On the hand, my mother was a successful doctor and made the hardest decision to leave everything she worked so hard for and come to great country. Mom and Dad struggle a lot being in this country both physically and professionally. My dad is a truck driver. Getting to that point was not easy, especially that he survived two...
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...class,” said Mrs. Boss, “how do you subtract numbers that have hundreds digits?” On a normal day, my hand would shoot up, in attempt to show off how quickly I knew the answer. However, I was too engrossed with my workbook and doodling to pay attention. The girl next to me was drawing these little creatures with tails and a curved body, which looked like a dragon and minion combined. I was intrigued, and used all the brain power in the small second grade skull of mine to develop my own creation. At first there was a rectangle, and then some googly eyes by drawing two circles, and then two more circles slightly smaller which touched the circumference. For the nose, there was an L, and for the mouth, a slight grin. I previously hated drawing in my workbook, as the glossy paper caused the pencil to look too light, and also doodling made the book messy. It’s difficult to halt the creative process, so my perfectionism had to be...
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