Personal Narrative: I Grow Up In A Catholic School

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Pages: 8

I grew up in a catholic school where I was taught to love everyone, and be accepting of anyone and everything, but at home it was a completely different story. My mom would always tell me I couldn't date a guy of another race because my father wouldn't approve. My mother wasn't against interracial relationships, but she couldn't go against my father's will. It never really affected me in grade school because there were maybe four or five African Americans in the entire school and I was never attracted to those four or five people. I was allowed to have black friends of course, in fact one of my best friends was black while I was growing up. What I was told at home didn't affect me until the summer before my junior year. The summer before my junior year I met Sherand. He would occasionally text me here and there and most of the time he was flirting. But I was too scared to be …show more content…
I’m not proud to say that, in fact it upsets me, but I would do anything to get to know him more. I would sneak around my parents, and lie straight to their faces just so I could get the chance to get to know him. That worked for a short amount of time until homecoming rolled around. Sherand asked me to homecoming with a poem and a bouquet of flowers, and I knew there was no way I could hide the flowers from my mom and dad. I had to come out with the truth, and it was going to be extremely hard. I told my dad I was asked to homecoming by the school's quarterback. At first he was impressed and then he asked what his name was. This was the point where I knew it would all go down hill. So I told him his name and quickly tried to explain myself, but it was too late. He bursted out in this laugh, it sounded so evil, almost like the devil laughing in my ear. He shot the idea of me going to homecoming with an African American down really fast. I remember so vividly silently weeping in my room wishing things weren't the way they