Ingrid Illustrated

  After looking at sample essays in class, I realized that my essay wasn’t about true adversity. I wrote about personal experiences, and frankly, I have not gone through real adversity in my life so far. Ironic isn’t it, that I am so privileged I don’t even know what true adversity is.  There are 6 types of adversity and to better educate myself, I have done some research on each: Physical adversity- Having a disability, being blind or deaf, having chronic pain, anything physical that makes it harder for one to have a normal life. Ex: a professional athlete may face adversity after a career-ending injury Mental adversity- Mental illnesses such as anxiety, depression, PTSD, etc. Ex: a teen girl who is going through an eating disorder such as bulimia Emotional adversity- Emotional immaturity which inhibits a productive state of mind and the ability to face difficulties in life, having emotions that consume you. Ex: not having a sense of self-worth which leads to rage and sadness leading

  What is normal? In “Body Ritual Among the Nacerima”, anthropologist Horace Miner talks ironically about how Americans are quick to judge and condemn the customs of other cultures, especially Native American ones. In reality, Americans disrespect many more cultures of Asians, African-Americans, Hispanics, and beyond. Hawaiians are belittled for eating raw fish when the process to harvest it is much more clean and humane than eating steaks. Asians are made fun of for speaking their elegant native languages in public. African-American culture is seen as “ghetto” and even “dangerous” rather than beautiful. But American culture is heavily influenced by all of these things we see as “strange”. How would we feel if eating burgers was seen as “disgusting”? Or if wearing jeans was known as “trashy”? Or even if speaking English in public was deemed “embarrassing”? Americans are so quick to judge because we only know the customs of our own culture as the norm. So what would happen if the roles

  I love my name. Well… maybe not love, but I do like it a lot more than I used to. Instead of being embarrassed about having to correct a substitute teacher every time they pronounced it wrong, or spelling out “I-N-G-R-I-D” every time I am asked my name for an order, or simply being ashamed of it, I now embrace it. I no longer get actually angry when someone calls me “ANgrid”, even after knowing me for many years. And yes, I know that “Ingrid” isn’t the hardest-to-pronounce, most exotic name out there, but you’d be surprised how many people have messed it up. The truth is, I hated my name growing up. It made me stand out in a room full of “Anna’s” and “Emma’s”. I didn’t like to stand out all the time. That’s still true now, even though I have grown to like the uniqueness my name places on me even before someone gets to know my personality. There was also the, “Ingrid’s a grandma name” and “The only other Ingrid I know is a grandma”. Kids used to be relentless, insisting my name was o