Image

Image... Society has developed standards; constructed an "image" of what we should or shouldn't do, what we need/ not need to look like, etc. Image has a sort of abstract meaning because it isn't formed through one thing its more so developed when you have many aspects together. I was definitely one of those people who bought into that, and, to an extent, still do. When I was in high school it was cool to be "ghetto"; basically tough and gritty. Hip hop had a large influence in the community that I grew up in and I totally bought into it. I would buy G-Unit, Sean John, etc clothing and Nike Air Force Ones; I had multiple pairs of different colors. I would talk slang, and try to manipulate what I saw portrayed in the music videos; that lifestyle looked so appealing. My aspirations weren't getting good grades, but getting big rims for my car. I wanted to portray myself as this person who I really wasn't. I was more preoccupied with how other people perceived me; my image, then I was of how I saw myself. After I graduated high school and started college I felt that, becuase college was the next step to the real world and I was going to be a lawyer after all, I could no longer present myself that way becuase, to me, it was unprofessional. I didn't think that people would take me seriously so I began to buy clothes that fit: Guess, Diesel and began focusing on my education to present myself as a professional; a hardworking, educated, clean-cut, and respectable person. In the end what have I really done though? I moved away from my old image, sure, but no matter how one cuts it; the new clothes, haircut, style, etc my new image is still...STILL an image.

A Tourist In My Own Country

In 1991 a civil war had broken out in Yugoslavia. My parents fearing the worst decided it was best for us (me and my younger brothers) to leave there. We came to America when I was five and we lived with our uncle for about three years; until my parents were able to afford and purchase a house of their own. That war ended shortly after splitting Yugoslavia into smaller countries, and we have been back three times since, but not to Yugoslavia; Montenegro.
In 1999 I went back for the first time with my mother. I was in 8th grade. I remember being very nervous and excited to see my native homeland again. We had home videos and pictures with us so it was very cool experience to be back. We had gone back to visit my mothers parents as it was that my fathers parents lived here, in America, with us. Unfortunately, however, the war between Serbia and Kosovo was escalating at that time. I distinctly remember walking out of the airport and seeing all of the army assembled around us, in the moment, being 12, I thought it was cool. That changed very quickly. When we were on our way to my grandparents house I remember being distinctly frightened because there were men in indistinguishable uniforms walking around with machine guns. Although I was 12 I was still aware of what was going on in the world. For the majority of our trip we stayed around the home while occasionally going to meet with family. I felt so scared and out of place. This wasn't the same place that I had seen in pictures and in home videos.
In 2001 when our whole family went it was a much more pleasant experience because all the tensions for the most part were died down. It was a fairly boring trip because still being only 15 my parents had us under raps. I think this feeling of displacement was largely due to my parents and their somewhat overprotective nature. They made us feel like we need to watch out who we talk to and where we go. It was very strange like "your Yugoslavian, but..."
In 2004 we back once more. This time, at 17, I was much more cognizant about what was going on. This time I really got that "displacement" feeling. I remember that everyone I met, or mostly everyone, was more concerned with me being "American." I couldn't understand it. I mean I was BORN there, I lived there for the first five years of my life, I spoke the language why was I so different? Well, I got it very soon and even though all those things were true I also predominantly spoke English with my brothers, I dressed differently, my mannerisms were different, and quite frankly my ideologies were different, and I would argue to an extent better, because I had a more balanced and diverse view on things. So they may have called me changed and an "American" (whatever that meant), and I haven't been back as of now in four years I will be curious when I do return how much if at all they have changed.

Buying the book [narrative]

Today was an interesting day to say the least. I was signed up to get into the UWP course I needed to take becuase it was a requirement; a formality really, in order for me to graduate. I was very nervous becuase I wanted to get into the class, and get it out of the way. So after class today I decided to go buy the text book. I headed over to the bookstore hoping that it wouldn't be sold out, and sure enough when I got there it seemed like that was indeed the case. After some inquiring however, by some classmates and myself, one of the employees finally directed us to the books. I was relieved they were in stock, and especially that there were available used. Yet I was a bit disappointed in how rude the employees were. At the same time, however, I was somewhat understanding, becuase, lets face it, it's a new quarter and they are probably running around very stressed out. I opened the book and from the brief scan I have done of the text book I would say that I am intrigued by it at the very least. It is definitely a unique textbook, and I am curious to begin reading and getting into it.