...riding down the street in Bessemer, Alabama with my grandmother seeing smoke in the air and smelling the grilling of BBQ. I’m thinking to my self “is that the lady barbecuing outside in front of the place where they play bingo again?” In my head I’m also thinking about my parents telling me “son don’t ever get food from somebody cooking on the street”. But I would always say “there is so many people out there getting the food” and they would reply “so if everybody is jumping off a cliff, are you going to do that too?” Basically they would always say it’s never a good thing to do what everyone else is doing, which I would understand what they were saying but how harmful could some BBQ be.... So as I’m riding with my grandmother down the street, this time it’s something that makes it very different from the other because I was in the car with my grandmother and she was willing to stop and get the BBQ. Her house was...
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...prove their ethnicity? My first name, Emily, sounds like a typical American name. Whereas my last name, Martinez, sounds Hispanic. I never thought much of my name, I just viewed it as a way for people to call me. When people told me their ethnicity, I accepted it and never analyzed if they actually portrayed that ethnicity. I identified as Hispanic because I was born in America to Mexican parents. A time in my life that caused me to develop a belief of my cultural identity was when I was accused of not being Mexican enough. This caused me to experience teasing about which ethnicity I am, doubting if I truly demonstrated my ethnicity, and realizing the ethnicity I am, but how that doesn’t define me. Both of my parents were...
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...Journal Entry # 10: Which of the ten am I? Be that it may, when I was around the age of three or four years old my parents divorced and it was the hardest thing that brothers and I experienced. At times it can be hard because it makes me wonder if they have ever loved each other and it also makes me wonder why they even split. In all honesty, I have a difficult talking about my parents divorce because it's not an easiest thing to bring up and at times I still find it hard to deal with because it impacted my life in such a major way. Often times, I find myself imagining what it would be like if my parents had stayed to together and I also wonder what led to the divorce. First of all, I will admit that every time that I would hear my mom talk...
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...Searching for a way to translate what I wanted into say to Somali and resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I continued to argue with my parents for what seemed like the hundredth time. The argument was about the form of transportation that I would take home from school. Unlike many of my peers, I wasn’t advocating for a cushy car ride home, but instead to take the rancid crowded train. My parents, bless their hearts, were very protective of me. My mother knew that I wasn’t fragile, but she constantly warned me that the sexism, racism, and Islamophobia that I could experience on the train would be worse than I’ve ever seen. When I finally convinced her to let me take the train, she would text me every morning, reminding me to recite the safety...
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...expensive purse on the street. I used to think that being rich means having a lot of money to buy everything I want, so my definition of rich was only about money. Even though I asked some of my friends, “what you think about the definition of rich,” their thoughts were just like mine. Being rich means not worrying about finances and doing what they really want to do. However, my mother gave me a different definition of rich. She let me know what rich really is. She told me, “Being rich is not too much about the income. It’s about what we have owned in our lives.” In other words, it has more to do with quality of life. My mind woke suddenly with a start when I heard what my mother said. I used to comprehend only the superficial meaning of rich. I realized that I was wrong. The underlying meaning is our lives. Therefore, the definition of rich that my mother told me has helped me realize I shouldn’t only pursue money if my goal is to be rich. I should cherish and care about what I have owned today. It’s like my family, my friends, and my campus life. These are all my wealth. Also, I have been learning something new to enrich my mind. If we can stay with someone that is important to us and enrich the inside of our mind, we can say we are rich no matter how much money we have owned. I don’t think many people can accept my mother’s definition of rich. My mother told me that she explained rich in this way because of her friend. She is a woman about fifty years old whose husband died a...
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...the year 1950 when everything changes, my view of black people. It was an ordinary summer day. I had just helped my mom out shopping, on the way home we saw a bunch of people standing in front of a TV shop, my mother took me by the hand and walked over to the group. I grabbed my mother's arm and asked her what happened, she did not say anything she just kept looking. I pushed myself past some people and finally came in front. I looked over and saw that there was a television on, it was news. I could not really hear what was said. I looked behind me and tried to find my mother. When I finally found her, she had a different facial expression. She looked happier before, I do not know what happened. I went to my mother and asked her "mom mom what happened, something wrong?” She looked down at me and smiled wryly, it was not a real smile. I could look at her that she was worried. Without saying anything, my mom took me by the hand and we went home. I could not help but think of my mother's worrying face. Now it was evening my father had just returned. During dinner, there was silence. I looked over at my father over to my mother, they both had the same facial expressions, and the same facial expression as my mother had had earlier in the day. But none of them said anything. After dinner, my mother said that I have to bathe and go to bed. After a while I could hear some sounds. I went out of my bed and to the door, I opened the door and saw my mother and father. They stood and talked...
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...Nancy Espinoza English 105 August 5, 2012 Mom and I My life as a teenager hasn’t been easy, just like any other teenager, I had my rebellious days. I was all about going out with friends and not focus in school. My parents, especially my mom, would always tell me to focus in school and not worry about fitting in with my friends. My mom is the type of moms who is always behind your back until you listen and straighten up. Like every other teenager, I would talk back to her and not listen. When you see her, you automatically assume she is the type of mom who believes everything you tell her like for example, “ Mom I am going to the movies” when you are really going to a party. She is thick, burgundy hair, brown eyes, and has the loudest laugh. You will never think she is one of those strict moms. All my friends would tell me “Oh my God, your mom looks so nice” when in reality to me she was the meanest mom in the world because she wouldn’t let me do anything. At age sixteen, I met this pretty skinny girl with curly brown hair whose name is Lupe. She was fourteen, two years younger than I am. We were always together and went to the movies almost every weekend and sneak in McDonalds. Then about three years later, she started hanging out with new friends who would drink almost every day, smoke, and party. When my mom noticed her change, she didn’t want me hanging out with her because of her bad reputation. She wouldn’t let me go out with her anymore or talk in the phone with her...
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...Life during the European Reformation My name is Mary Anderson , I lived during the 16th Century, with my parents. Life during this time was every hard and scarey. My parents and I lived in Denmark a city is Europe. My parents were very tense because they never knew when they would have to flee to a safe place. Where we lived was not a safe place at all,because the war between the Protestants and Catholic was still going on. My parents told me stories about how the Prostestants believers were treated and had been killed and troched because they stood up for their Protestant beliefs. I guess you have figured it out by now my family and I are Protestants belivers. My parents sit around the table after dinner ( mother knitting and dad reading his Bible) talking about how there had been serious wars over religious difference prior to my birth. These stories make me shilver and very scared. They told me how a man name Martin Luther wrote a paper called “95 Theses and some how it got published without him agreeing to the publication. The Catholic Church rebelled because the article was an attempt to reform the practices of the Catholic Churchs’ beliefs. This started the wars between the Catholic and the Prostestants. These wars started in the 15hundreds, when my parents were young. They told about how the Pope was not pleased with what Martin Luther wrote and determined not to change any Catholic beliefs or docturines. They told me how the name prostentant came from protesters...
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...looking.” That is something that my parents taught me as a young child. I have also been told to treat someone the way I would like to be treated, and I try to live by those mottos to this day. My parents told me that I should not follow everyone else’s actions and to be my own person. Sometimes it can be difficult because in the real world not everyone is easy to get along with and there can be so many ways to fall into peer pressure. When I was younger, I was always taught that if I did not do the right thing something bad would happen. I heard the same thing everywhere I went. If I was not going to obey my parents when I was told to do something, I would be sent to my room for a time out. If I did not listen to what my teacher said, I would be sitting in a desk bored out of my mind after school to serve a detention. If I told a sin at church, I would go to Hell and not Heaven. So, my parents brainwashed me into doing the right thing at a young age. That made it really easy for me to get along with almost everybody because everyone loves a goodie goodie when you are little. I am a pretty easy going person because it is important to get along with as many people as possible. I like to live in the moment and have fun. I am almost always happy because creating a positive vibe with the people surrounding me is extremely important. Nobody wants anyone else being rude to them, so I try to be as friendly as I can to everyone. Being friendly is one of my best characteristics because...
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...Throughout my whole life I’ve learned that not everything is rainbows and butterflies. I’ve learned that whatever I do in my life it will never be good enough for my parents. The day of my graduation, I didn’t really feel like going but my parents made me. I had my whole entire family there, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandma, grandpa and of course my siblings and parents. Driving up to my graduation was pretty nerve racking, I kept thinking to myself what if I fall down during my walk across the stage, but thankfully I didn’t. while I was sitting there waiting for my principle and all the valedictorians to stop talking; it was finally my turn to walk across the stage and for a minute I looked at all my family members so they can take a picture and I thought that for once they were proud of me. I have accomplished the impossible, according to them. I was excited to be done with the torture chamber of being high school, as I said bye to “my so called friends” I was glad I wasn’t going to see them anymore, the only friend I had was just my best gay friend. After my graduation was over; I meet my whole entire family outside to take pictures and celebrate what I thought was something they would be proud of. My parents didn’t even say congratulations to me. For a minute I was dumb enough to think everything will change. They told me I needed to graduate with my class and I tried my hardest to achieve that so they could be proud of me; I attended night school classes all my senior year...
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...Growing up my parents were very strict, even to this day they are still strict with me. They tend to be overprotective at times as well. I remember getting invited to go out by my friends and my parents saying that I couldn’t go. It was rare that my parents would let me go out with my friends. When I was younger I would obviously listen to them because after all they are my parents. Now that I am older and more independent, I still ask permission to go out, they have become more lenient but still do not let me go out to certain places with certain people. If I bring up the topic of going out with my friends, they want to know where I am going, and who I am going with, the questions never stop. The times I am able to go out, I am constantly receiving text messages asking what time I am going home, and what I am up to....
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...The Withdrawal Military School, those words send chills down my spine. I often wondered what I did to deserve such a punishment, but then again I guess I should have seen it coming. In Nigeria, my country, it is impossible for a person to hold an office in the government without having served in the military. My father, who is presently in the government, wanted me to follow in his footsteps. It was my dream at that time, to go into the government like my dad but I never fully realized what I would have to pass through in order to fulfill my goal. My father wanted to send me to military school when I became of age; he wanted me to get an early taste of life in the military as he felt it would be to my advantage as opposed to direct enrollment in the military, like he did. But as a father, he was wary and apprehensive. Unknowingly, I made his job a lot easier with my unruly behavior in my middle school. I was very ill mannered and I had violent tendencies. The straw that broke the camel's back was when I got into a fight at school and severely beat my opponent to a bloody pulp. That was the day my father made up his mind to send me to a military school at the start of the next school year. In my first year of high school I ended up in military school. All my friends went to regular high schools but I had an entirely different life ahead of me. It was absolutely terrifying. In my new school, they were very particular about academics but they didn’t stop there. They broke you...
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...are alcoholic. My cousins often say to me, you are so lucky and bless that your parents don’t drink alcohol. I asked them why they say such. They said because alcohol can break up home and families. I asked them, what are some of the problems they have to go through because their parents are alcoholic. They said neglect, behavior problems, and no money. My cousins asked me do my mom and dad neglect me. I told them no. I told them that we always have family night, we go out to eat and sometimes I get what I want. They said that it was so wonderful because we don’t get that kind of attention. I asked them do your parents say positive words and give the hugs to show how much they love you. They said no girl. Alcohol have them so disorder and corrupt until it's best to stay out of their way. Another one of my cousin said when her dad wakes up from a long sleep that's when his bad behavior begins to happen. She said sometime she get hit, kicked, pushed to the wall, he even throw objects at her. Sometime he pulls her hair and spit on her. I get so afraid and cry all night. Sometime I think about running away from home. I told her if you need to get away you can come and stay with me. One day last week my cousin came over to my house to play with me. She asked my mom can she have something to eat. My mom said sure, what would you like to eat? My cousins were shock because my mom asked her what she wanted to eat. I asked her, do your mom ask you what you want to eat...
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...asked myself constantly. Early in my childhood I was told by my parents who I was and who I am supposed to grow up to be. I think that is the case for most people. We are born to people who instill their beliefs onto us, who themselves have had it instilled in them by their own parents. Our ancestors pass down their own values and beliefs that they have acquired from their own society to generation after generation along with culture and religion. I asked myself, who would I be if it weren’t for them? I had no control over my birth or my upbringing. I only did what I was told and believed what I was told to believe. Being the eldest of five, I was told by my parents to be a leader, to be the man of the house when my father is gone. I was told to stand straight like...
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...I hate the weekends, my parents aren’t home because they go on these luxurious trips that could last could last anywhere from a few days to a few weeks; and so most of the time it’s just me and my little sister, Macy. There is a small age difference between her and I, she is 11 and I’m 17. Her and I look alike, which I guess is a good thing. Macy has a cherubic like face, rosy cheeks, bright smile, eyes as blue as the sky. The perfect blonde hair, and freckles that aren’t too dark, just enough color to see them. I look just about the same, except I have light brown hair. We get our looks from our mom and just a few qualities from our dad, like our athletic ability. We are both in sports, I dance, cheer, and play volleyball. She does soccer, dance, and gymnastics. The bell rings for school to get out, my favorite time of the day. I go to my locker and meet up with my boyfriend Liam. He walks me to my car then I go pick up Macy from school. I pull up at her school and she scurries into the front seat wanting to go home to watch the next episode of Pretty Little Liars. I stop off to get us a sweet treat from Braum’s, she got the typical banana split with strawberry ice cream, and I got a strawberry banana shake. After, I drove home so we could watch our show. Typical, our parents left us a note saying the...
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