My Life free essay sample

If you ask anyone to describe me from first grade, they would say I was that little Mexican kid who didn’t know a whole sentence in English. All I would say was â€Å"cheese†; it was the first word I learned in English, besides â€Å"hi.† It was the first day of first grade. We introduced ourselves. I said my whole name because in Mexico we are accustomed to use both our fathers and mother last names, and everyone laughed. After everyone was done we were asked our favorite animal, and I said I liked ratones (mice). â€Å"Why?† the kids asked, and I said, â€Å"Because they like queso just like me.† My teacher translated and, for some reason, cheese was the only word I memorized and from then, my friends just called me cheese. Since Mexicans make a large part of the United States population people might think it not a big deal, but they are wrong. We will write a custom essay sample on My Life or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page People set your expectations low, it’s either you drop out and go work in manual labor, fast food, or become drug dealers. The people, who believe that, are very ignorant. When I hear these things, I do not react negatively, I just smile and think to myself, â€Å"Man this person is ignorant; I cannot wait until they see me as their dentist.† Until now I have done community service for school, and that is a class. I wish to do more with and for my community; I do help senior citizens and things along those lines. An example of this is when my mom and I went grocery shopping and this old lady was struggling to get some canned beats. I asked if she needed help and she said yes so I began to grab some canned beats. As I grabbed the first can she yelled, â€Å"No! Not that one,† she told me that she wanted the ones from the back because they were better. So I grabbed eight of the cans from the very back and put them in her cart. The kind old lady thanked me and left. I hope to do more something that would make someone’s life truly better. Doing something for someone makes me feel good, but it also helps the Mexican community. At times when I am with my family I can tell people look at us differently like we are bad people. By me helping my community it will show that Mexicans are not â€Å"bad people† we are good and just like them. We can do good, we are not criminals just because of our ethnicity. My freshman year I did not have the greatest grades and in sophomore year I even failed a class, but this year (junior year) I am getting good grades and making up that half credit I am missing. I am getting my life back on track. Before, college was not part of my future, but I realized I need to do better for myself and my family. My mom tells me they came here for my siblings and me so we can have a great education and not have to work in a job that pays minimum wage. I finally realized I need to take advantage of the opportunity, and I hope to be the first in my family to attend a four year college. I raised my expectations to show everyone that Mexicans can be more than what they think. I know I will succeed. My Life free essay sample Since the dawn of time, people have struggled in some form or another. These struggles can range from the simple to the complex. Life is a struggle and sometimes you need to go through something troublesome in your life to find out who you really are and just how strong your are. Here is the story of my struggle. All my struggles with anxiety and OCD started in August of 2005, right before my sixth birthday when my father told me he was shipping out to Iraq and he’d be gone for a while. Of course, I was so young I didn’t get the full weight of what was really going to happen until he told my mother when she came to pick me up. Immediately, the tears started streaming down her face as if they came straight from Lava Falls. The car ride home was distinctly different from the usual car rides home. We will write a custom essay sample on My Life or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page I remember due to the fact that it was silent, barring the exception of my mom’s sobbing. Usually the car ride home entailed me telling my mother how my weekend went and what my dad and I did together. I only saw him one more time before he shipped off for pre-deployment training. Time seemed to fly by as if I was on the Millennium Falcon and at a stand still in the same moment. First grade was a blur. Mostly, I remember being moody, having my highs and lows. At this point my mother knew something was psychologically wrong with me. After all, she did major in Psychology. She took me to go see a psychiatrist and for a while that worked, but first grade ended and it was getting towards my birthday. Memories of everything that transpired about a year before came to the surface and I broke down. Summer’s remaining days flew by and second grade crept up. All I wanted was a chance to see my dad again. Little did I know, he concocted a plan to surprise me at school and take m e camping for a week or so. The instant I saw him at the door I ran and gave him a hug, toppling over chairs in my wake all while my teacher was in the midst of a math lesson. More than ever, I wanted this camping trip to go by at a sloth’s pace, but the saying â€Å"time flies when youre having fun† was true. After he dropped me off at my house and left, I ran up to my room and began crying like it was going out of style. One more year went by without seeing him. One more year of extreme moodiness. It was the beginning of third grade, when I got some news that I couldn’t quite comprehend. My dad was coming home. Word of this traveled fast because my first grade teacher, Mrs. Collier made me a â€Å"Welcome Home Dad!† sign. When he finally came back, I left school early and went to see him and gave him a big hug. I never wanted to let go, I finally got my dad back for good. Since my dad was back home, I thought all my anxiety would disappear. Boy was I wrong. Over the years, my anxiety has gradually grown, in fourth and fifth grade it wasn’t that noticeable. Doctors prescribed medications and for a while they worked. Middle school came and my anxiety and temper went up, but nothing too alarming. High school came around and my anxiety spiked. The breaking point was Thanksgiving of my sophomore year. It came to the point where I couldn’t even make it through school and I would have to sterilize after doing anything. Finally, I got different medications and things began to level out a little bit and I was becoming normal for once. This experience gave me a new perspective on life and taught me how to survive the struggle. I had a great support circle and several tools provided to me. This will allow me to be able to handle anything and everything thrown at me. When college comes around, or anything for that matter, I’ll know to just s tep back, take a deep breath and charge on. Life is a struggle, but with the proper tools and guidance, you can make it through anything.