I remember growing up as an (Irish Immigrant/AfricanAmerican/Latino/Navajo/Asian
American) child during the (Great Depression/Civil Rights era/war). Back in
those days we didn't have much, just an infinitesimal house in (rural
America/the city/Chinatown). On some lazy afternoons, I used to sit on the
(front porch/kitchen counter/bed my eight siblings and I shared) and think about
the children playing in the (word from another language, italicized) and how
happy they were. I was always getting in trouble at school because I would (draw
on things/ask questions/write a lot).

One day, I came home from school (upset/excited/angry)
because another kid had said I was (fat/dumb/discriminatory word). While in the
kitchen making (ethnically-appropriate dish) my mother told me (insert moral
saying). From that day forward, I wasn't ashamed of my talents. My mother was a (kindly/loving) parent who influenced me greatly. I
will always remember that day and her advice, which helped me on my journey to
become a (writer/artist/playwright).