It was on a hot June evening when I arrived at the airport, this would be my second time on a plane, but my first medical mission trip. As I pulled into the airport I could see my team waiting for me. It was finally happening, I was about to venture into a third world country. My palms were sweaty from my nerves becoming unsettled, but my eagerness helped overcome them. Once everyone had arrived we headed to the airport check-in to weigh our luggage. We each brought two full suitcases of donations that could weigh no more than fifty pounds. In total we had sixteen suitcases and only four of them met the weight limit, I always thought security was a hassle, but this definitely taught me otherwise. After pulling out all the items and sorting them into different suitcases, we were ready to move on. I never thought it would be such a relief to head to security. The line was overflowing with impatient and weary travelers. After almost being in line for what felt like an eternity it was finally my turn and a grey haired fellow with a friendly grin asked me to step forward. I could see our terminal on the other side of the metal detector, I was almost free. I made it through without any problems and as I waited for my team I let go a sigh of relief, knowing that the worst part was over. Now it was time to relax and wait for our flight. At the time I didn’t know that it was just the beginning of a very long hectic night. Our flight was leaving at 12:00a.m. and it was roughly 11:30p.m. when a woman’s voice resounded from the speakers above to announce, “Flight 302 is now boarding, please make your way to gate number twelve, flight 302 is now boarding”. That was us, at last we made it. I walked down the aisle to locate my seat and halfway down I found it, seat number 91 would be my best friend for the next five hours. As I waited for the plane to take off I tried to close my eyes and take a breather. After about an hour or so of tossing and turning while countless thoughts ran through my head, I managed to doze off. It was the voice from one of the flight attendants announcing that we would soon be arriving at our destination that awoke me. I could feel the plane begin to descend, the pressure started to pop my ears, I braced myself for the landing. As we hit the ground the whole plane shook while squealing tires slowly brought us to a stop and the roaring engine ceased, we had landed safely. My team and I grabbed all our carry-ons from the above compartments and headed into the airport where we would claim our baggage. After attaining all sixteen suitcases we headed down to the food court to wait for our ride. At this time it was almost 5:00a.m. and it had been about an hour or so when we realized something was wrong. Jose, who has been transporting these mission trips for the past seventeen years had never been late. We called up the convent we were to be staying at to find out what was going on, it turns out Jose didn’t think we were coming until the next day and had no idea we were even at the airport. At this point we were all drained, it had been such a long night and wasn’t even close to being over. We were about two hours from the convent and Jose lived almost three hours away, which meant it was time to get comfortable. In the food court there were metal benches that we would claim for the next five hours. My eyes were burning and I could hardly keep them open, all I wanted to do was take a nap but I learned that metal benches at an airport don’t form well to your body. To pass the time we played cards and discussed what we had planned for the next week. The time was now 11:30a.m. and one of the guys shouted, “He’s here!”. We all rejoiced and headed to the van with our massive stack of belongings. As I stepped outside a warm breeze brushed my face and the sun’s heat penetrated through to my bones rejuvenating them after the long night. I was here at last, I made it to the Dominican Republic. The luggage was all packed and…
A Personal Narrative of Race
How have I constructed race in my life?
To help initiate our conversation about race, we are going to begin by exploring our own
history with the idea. This assignment is rather simple: tell a story about when you first
became aware of your own race – your “blackness,” “whiteness,” “Asianness,”
“Latinoness,” etc . Consider these central questions:
When was the first time that race mattered – whether in a positive or negative way –
in the construction of…
Essay #1 Personal Narrative
Setting Good Examples
It all happened one day in fourth grade. The playground was filled with boisterous kids that scurried around, ranging from third to fifth grade. Half of the third graders crowded the enormous blue sandboxes, while the other half formed lines by the swings. The fifth graders, including Luke Haffman, who I had the biggest crush on, were either playing basketball or loitering by the forbidden tree-line…
Amplification- adding more information to a sentence to make it stand out more so the reader can relate to it and get more out of it.
Apocryphal Story- A unauthentic story, questionable
personal narratives helps us relate to eachother and bonds people together in a way where is really deep and it makes us see someone in a different light.
Coherence- logically stcking statements together that flow is really essential to storytelling because it helps listeners really get a good understanding…
Life Philosophy Narrative
February 9, 2014
Brenda Baker, Instructor
This life narrative reflection was an interesting assignment that help me define what my values and beliefs measure in my life. What proved to be easy was the “free week” because most individuals (such as myself) have an vacation spot imagined and planned just in case the opportunity present itself. The most difficult, was to see myself…
Comp. for College
16 January 2015
Death and Being
I am an analytical person. Reason is my best friend. Reason has helped me through a lot of painful breakups, family issues, personal struggles, etc. Not everyone has an inherent need to justify and understand every emotion they feel or even most emotions that they feel, but I do. In the midst of a particularly painful breakup, I actually started journaling a sort of question and answer session. I asked questions like ‘what…
Topic: My dad developing leukemia.
General Purpose: To inform.
Specific Purpose: At the end of my presentation, the audience will know how the story of my dad shaped me into having the values of appreciation and staying positive.
Central Idea: My dad is the reason for my values appreciation and being positive.
Organizational pattern: Topical.
Can you imagine starting your senior year with everything going for you, and then about three months before the end of it…
My goal at Durham Tech is to get my degree in computer program no matter how long it takes me .Because I have great plan for the computer program degree. I want to use my knowledge medical issues and the computer programing to come up the software that can make healthcare more assessable to everyone though mobile app and making healthcare smarter.
Before I came to Durham Tech I was working a lot of hour as a Certified Nurse Assistant .One day I was sating at work just think…
It’s a starry night on a cold October night, the breeze chilling to the bone. Nights like these remind me of solemn memories and lessons learned in the harshest way. It was around this time about two years ago that I learned to never take anything, or anyone, for granted. There’s a friend of mine I lost to suicide two years ago, I’ll just call her Ashe. She struggled with depression, abuse, and what happened two years ago taught me in the hardest way to not take anything for…
5 July 2015
The Struggle of writing
Growing up in a family that always pushed for excellence in the classroom made me afraid to come home with anything less than an A. Most of my peers completely despised reading. I looked forward to getting reading assignments. However, I feel that I lack experience in writing, I have a love hate relationship with English, especially when it comes to writing assignments. It is the one and only vulnerable spot in my otherwise…
Personal Narrative draft #3
Writing and Critical Inquiry
August 28, 2013
When It all Went Wrong
I was in my room at my desk attempting to study, and all of a sudden everything went dark. It was a moment of pure panic, I couldn’t tell the difference between the sound of trees falling, and parts of houses being blown around by the powerful winds. I wanted to look out the window to see the destruction that Hurricane Sandy was causing, but I was afraid to. I wasn’t sue if I should…