My Personal Narrative
So for my capstone class in communication, we are asked to do a final narrative project. I did mine.
I composed a larger narrative that consists of eight smaller narratives. I’m going to gradually post some of these entries just for fun.
Here goes:
Introduction
The following is a series of smaller narratives, which as a whole serve as a larger personal narrative telling stories of things, times, and events that have molded me into who I am today. I am writing this narrative as an undergraduate senior in his final days before graduation. I will share stories from my past, about my family, and about my friends. I have only been on this earth for twenty two years, but in these past twenty two years I have gone through many different phases of life. It is in the more recent phases of life that I have really transformed and become the man I am today. I invite you to take a look at my story as I reflect on some of these things that I feel make me who I am today.
My Rocking Cow
Growing up, all the other kids had rocking horses to entertain them. Not me. I had a rocking cow. I loved my rocking cow. I grew up in a small town – Riverdale. When I say small, I mean small. Our high school population was five hundred students, and our town population was barely three thousand. Everybody knew each other, and everybody knew everybody’s business. In high school, we joked around and called our hometown “Rumor-ville”. Riverdale was known for its dairies and smelly water. Despite all that was just said, Riverdale really is a nice town. It is small, quaint, and not over-run by big chains and franchises. It is a nice little country town that is just far enough from everything, but also close enough to some bigger cities that make for easy shopping trips and outings.
I received my rocking cow from my uncle, who was also my God Father. Growing up, and still today, I call him Nino. He is my mother’s older brother (his name is Dave). Uncle Dave – Nino – is a very skilled carpenter. He has made countless pieces for me and my family. Now this rocking cow wasn’t any dinky old rocking cow. This cow was big and sturdy. It measured about three feet tall by about five feet wide. So growing up, this thing was huge! For a long time, it was bigger than me and I had to climb it to get on and ride it. My rocking cow was white with black spots, had a pink, wooden utter, big googly eyes, and a little tuff of yarn hair on the top of its head as well as a long, braided yarn tail on its rear.
I can recall sitting on my rocking cow and just rocking for what seemed like hours upon hours. In reality, it was probably just a couple of minutes. Growing up, time seemed to pass by so slowly. Now, it just seems to speed on by. I loved my rocking cow. To be honest, I don’t think that I ever named my rocking cow. It was safe to say that I was probably the only kid in town who had a rocking cow.
My cow was unique. It was hand made by my uncle. Nobody else had one. It is for those factors that I loved my cow even more – I was the only one who had one. Even today, I enjoy having things that others don’t. In saying that, I don’t want to sound materialistic or pride myself on the things I have. I want to make the point that I enjoy being unique and different. For example, with iPods and iPhones; everybody has them. Because so many people have those products, I choose not to buy them. I don’t want to be a part of the fad.
Looking back at how I loved my rocking cow then and at how unique it was helps me identify it as one of the first signs of my uniqueness and desire to not be in the norm. As I have come to live in these more recent years of the life I have lived, I do enjoy making a statement; being different; making a lasting impression. I enjoy being the one that will be remembered (for good things, of course). I like people to be able to think back and say oh yeah, he was that guy. It may be because of my hair, or my tattoos, or piercings, words, actions or deeds. Regardless of what it may be, I enjoy and strive to leave a good impression on others. I strive to stand out and be a little more unique than everybody else. Why, hey, I had a rocking cow.
