I don’t mean to overhear people’s conversations—well, at least most of the time. However, as I’ve mentioned before, I’m a Hispanic enclosed in an Asian physique. Oftentimes, I hear things I’m not supposed to, but glad that I did. During the girls’ varsity bowling season at Tech, we had to compete against our rivals—Brooklyn International HS.
After the first half of the game on the A team, we were already 40 points behind. Commonly, this is a pretty good lead for them. We were discouraged, disappointed, and even, frustrated. Our under-performance caused the coach to ask for a time-out. Not only did we have our pep talk, the coach also asked us to form a ring and give each other massages. It was so weird, since half of the bowling alley was peeking at us. However, we did manage to laugh it out, losen up, and ultimately, refocus and regain our confidence. We did our A team cheer, and we were off to finish the second half of the game.
Back on the lane, all eyes on me, I bowled a strike. Now, more determined than ever, my teammates consecutively bowled strikes and spares. After two frames, we caught up with the points and were tied with them. It was then when I overheard the Hispanic girls talking about us: “el Diablo, y que fue que hicieron las malditas chinas que se pusieron tan buenas ahora?” They were basically cursing us out and wondering why we got so good all of a sudden.
I, of course, told my teammates what I heard. No, we did not curse them back in Chinese, but my team asked me to curse them back in Spanish. I was tempted to do it, but I was nice enough not to embarrass them. The competition went on, and there was no way we were going to let them win. In the end, Brooklyn Tech defeated Brooklyn International.
Well this is a time when I felt embarassed. Its not the first time I’ve felt embarassed, but it is a time when I felt really embarassed.
It was an ordinary day, no rain, almost no clouds. My mom went out to go shopping and I was home. I was around seven at the time and I wanted to go outside really badly. My grandma went with me to walk around and when i was walking down the street I saw someone that looked like my mom. I saw her back and what clothes she was wearing and it looked like something that my mom wore. My instinct made me yell out mom and run towards her to grab her hand. Of course when she turned around I was surprised and disappointed. She gave me a confused look and started laughing. I felt so embarassed that day when my grandma told my mom.
I tend to forget things easily, unfortunately even the most important things I must remember escape my mind. I did not think this was a problem until my work load would pile up and caused me to pull all nighters. That was when I finally decided to make lists, I made list about almost everything. What I needed to finish, to buy, to give, or who I needed to call, to thanks or to apologize to. On my table desk, there are maybe two to three textbooks most of them are mia or I had just forgotten to take them home, but I have what seems like a million post-it notes or long yellow sheets of just reminders. I upgraded to making lists even on my computer desktop, my cellphone background and even calender reminders. But I just always seem to forget that one thing, that one blog, or that one item I needed. I can proudly admit that this is one of my biggest flaws but, I also know that admitting I have a problem is the first step towards change.
When I was younger, 6 years old, I was terrified of the water. During my family’s sailing trip in the British Virgin Islands, I refused to go past my head in the water. For 3 weeks we lived on a 38 ft. sailboat usually anchoring it off shore or tying the boat up to a dock. Tropical water surrounded me day and night. At times, I felt seasick but underlying my nerves and anxiety from the water helped turn my stomach. My sisters would jump off the boat freely into the light turquoise beautiful water. My lifejacket had been glued to my body. I envied their bravery.
Mother would take pictures of my sisters and father swimming at the back of the boat and climbing up and down the metal ladder to jump off again. When she’d tell me to get in the picture, I would cautiously climb down the ladder but never letting go. Looking back now those photographs make me laugh. Just a month earlier I was happily swimming in the deep end by myself.
The previous summer prior to our trip to St. Thomas, I spent my time at my Grandma’s beach in Ladingtown, Long Island. My dad kept our sailboat, Lovelight on a mooring in the harbor. My dad, mom, and my three sisters were on the dock at the time. My father always forced us to wear lifejackets because we did not know how to swim yet. Oddly enough I wasn’t wearing a lifejacket while my dad was fixing up the boat. No one had noticed until I fell over the dock into the water behind my father’s boat. I can remember seeing my father reaching over the water yelling as my feet touch the sand at the bottom. I didn’t know what to do. All I could see was a fogged cloudy vision of my father above the water. I was stuck. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I could no longer breathe. Within seconds I feel my father grab and push me to the top of the water. Out of breath, I felt water pour out of my mouth.
My dad told me I scared him to death and told me that I was foolish for not wearing my lifejacket. He yelled at me and for the time being I never wanted to touch the water again.
Today, I find this story amusing because there is nothing more that I love then the ocean. I live across the beach on Long Island and in the summers I sail and swim all day long. I believe this experience made me appreciate the water more for that I wanted so badly to conquer my fear of drowning.
October 8th, 2010 at 3:01 pm
I don’t mean to overhear people’s conversations—well, at least most of the time. However, as I’ve mentioned before, I’m a Hispanic enclosed in an Asian physique. Oftentimes, I hear things I’m not supposed to, but glad that I did. During the girls’ varsity bowling season at Tech, we had to compete against our rivals—Brooklyn International HS.
After the first half of the game on the A team, we were already 40 points behind. Commonly, this is a pretty good lead for them. We were discouraged, disappointed, and even, frustrated. Our under-performance caused the coach to ask for a time-out. Not only did we have our pep talk, the coach also asked us to form a ring and give each other massages. It was so weird, since half of the bowling alley was peeking at us. However, we did manage to laugh it out, losen up, and ultimately, refocus and regain our confidence. We did our A team cheer, and we were off to finish the second half of the game.
Back on the lane, all eyes on me, I bowled a strike. Now, more determined than ever, my teammates consecutively bowled strikes and spares. After two frames, we caught up with the points and were tied with them. It was then when I overheard the Hispanic girls talking about us: “el Diablo, y que fue que hicieron las malditas chinas que se pusieron tan buenas ahora?” They were basically cursing us out and wondering why we got so good all of a sudden.
I, of course, told my teammates what I heard. No, we did not curse them back in Chinese, but my team asked me to curse them back in Spanish. I was tempted to do it, but I was nice enough not to embarrass them. The competition went on, and there was no way we were going to let them win. In the end, Brooklyn Tech defeated Brooklyn International.
October 11th, 2010 at 8:57 am
Well this is a time when I felt embarassed. Its not the first time I’ve felt embarassed, but it is a time when I felt really embarassed.
It was an ordinary day, no rain, almost no clouds. My mom went out to go shopping and I was home. I was around seven at the time and I wanted to go outside really badly. My grandma went with me to walk around and when i was walking down the street I saw someone that looked like my mom. I saw her back and what clothes she was wearing and it looked like something that my mom wore. My instinct made me yell out mom and run towards her to grab her hand. Of course when she turned around I was surprised and disappointed. She gave me a confused look and started laughing. I felt so embarassed that day when my grandma told my mom.
October 11th, 2010 at 6:26 pm
I tend to forget things easily, unfortunately even the most important things I must remember escape my mind. I did not think this was a problem until my work load would pile up and caused me to pull all nighters. That was when I finally decided to make lists, I made list about almost everything. What I needed to finish, to buy, to give, or who I needed to call, to thanks or to apologize to. On my table desk, there are maybe two to three textbooks most of them are mia or I had just forgotten to take them home, but I have what seems like a million post-it notes or long yellow sheets of just reminders. I upgraded to making lists even on my computer desktop, my cellphone background and even calender reminders. But I just always seem to forget that one thing, that one blog, or that one item I needed. I can proudly admit that this is one of my biggest flaws but, I also know that admitting I have a problem is the first step towards change.
October 11th, 2010 at 8:06 pm
Blog 2- What are you afraid of?
When I was younger, 6 years old, I was terrified of the water. During my family’s sailing trip in the British Virgin Islands, I refused to go past my head in the water. For 3 weeks we lived on a 38 ft. sailboat usually anchoring it off shore or tying the boat up to a dock. Tropical water surrounded me day and night. At times, I felt seasick but underlying my nerves and anxiety from the water helped turn my stomach. My sisters would jump off the boat freely into the light turquoise beautiful water. My lifejacket had been glued to my body. I envied their bravery.
Mother would take pictures of my sisters and father swimming at the back of the boat and climbing up and down the metal ladder to jump off again. When she’d tell me to get in the picture, I would cautiously climb down the ladder but never letting go. Looking back now those photographs make me laugh. Just a month earlier I was happily swimming in the deep end by myself.
The previous summer prior to our trip to St. Thomas, I spent my time at my Grandma’s beach in Ladingtown, Long Island. My dad kept our sailboat, Lovelight on a mooring in the harbor. My dad, mom, and my three sisters were on the dock at the time. My father always forced us to wear lifejackets because we did not know how to swim yet. Oddly enough I wasn’t wearing a lifejacket while my dad was fixing up the boat. No one had noticed until I fell over the dock into the water behind my father’s boat. I can remember seeing my father reaching over the water yelling as my feet touch the sand at the bottom. I didn’t know what to do. All I could see was a fogged cloudy vision of my father above the water. I was stuck. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I could no longer breathe. Within seconds I feel my father grab and push me to the top of the water. Out of breath, I felt water pour out of my mouth.
My dad told me I scared him to death and told me that I was foolish for not wearing my lifejacket. He yelled at me and for the time being I never wanted to touch the water again.
Today, I find this story amusing because there is nothing more that I love then the ocean. I live across the beach on Long Island and in the summers I sail and swim all day long. I believe this experience made me appreciate the water more for that I wanted so badly to conquer my fear of drowning.