I moved to Peekskill. New York when I was about eight years old. I used to live in Yonkers, New York but then my parents realized we needed a change. The area that I lived in in Yonkers was extremely bad. There were a lot of drugs and violence and my parents didn't want to finish raising their family in this awful neighborhood. My family and I lived in a small two-bedroom apartment on Radford Street. My family consists of a mother a father five daughters and a son; obviously our family was a bit too big for this apartment. These were just some of the reasons that my parents wanted to move. According to my mother, the school that my sister's and me were attending was not on the same level as some of the other schools in the state that we could have been attending. She thought we were too smart for the schools located in Yonkers. On the other hand, I loved the school that I was going to. I loved P.S 13 for a number of reasons. I really liked the faculty. All the teachers were so nice and friendly. Oddly enough, I liked the food as well. Most kids don't like the cafeteria food but I liked this schools food. Everything seemed to be going so good, but I never realized what was actually going on. I didn't really I was living in danger and that if I walked the wrong way home from school or looked at someone wrong or talked to the wrong person, my life could have been ended within a couple minutes. I never realized that my family and I were living in a community where so many tragic events were taking place right in front of our eyes.
I would sometimes come home from school and would see my mother crying. I would say, "mom what's wrong?" She would wipe her tears away and say, "Nothing Lisa, do you have homework?" I would give her an answer and go on as if nothing was wrong. Years later I now realize that those tears dripping down my face were out of sadness. She hated the life she was living and the life that she was leading us to.
Growing up with a father who blamed me for the death of his wife which of course broke through any happiness, care or love he felt for me his own son. My house was always filled with dark gloomy colors and we never really had guests over at all. My father was a mystery most people but in his job he had power over people because they were frightened by his just by his presence. It was a very rare pleasure filled with fright when we spoke and I can only think of one time where I got a hint of positive feeling from him. It was a dark, rainy gloomy day and the house never held a promise for the future so I was constantly bored and decided to read some old books from my father’s dusty library. There I sat with a book in hand picking up any knowledge that I possibly could and he walked in and said to me “Montressor, you impress me with act of trying to do something useful”, I replied to him with the only thing I could ever say to him, yes sir. I can only remember the constant hate I would receive from him and it made me think that I would never please
On a cold winter day, my family was getting ready to meet at my grandma’s house like we had done our whole lives. Christmas was one of the most important days of the year for the Robertson’s. Each aunt made entrées and deserts along with the delicious food that my grandma made each year. Food and family were the two main reasons everyone loved Christmas. On the way to Triune where my family lives, my mother started to cry which I thought was odd for
It was the fall of 2010 and little did I know that my world was about to change drastically. We had moved back to Kenosha, Wisconsin in 2008 after living in Mexico, and I was starting to enjoy my life in the dairy state. My 6th Grade classes had just started at Bullen Middle School. It was right at this time when my world seemingly got flipped upside down. My parents had a family meeting and informed my siblings and me that we were moving to a small Iowa town called Orange City. I had feelings of nervousness, excitement, and sadness all mixed together.
Well let me tell you about my life. I’ll start back in 6th grade, when i attended Sylvan Hills Middle. I was at that school for all my 3 years of middle school. That was the most piped up school ever. Everybody was cool with everybody. I done got into some trouble at the end of my 8th
Finding out about my grandmothers death was the saddest moment in my life . I didn't understand . I didn't expect it to happen , not to me . I wondered why god had taken an important person away from my life , ad for that i felt confused and miserable . I cried for hours that day . Nothing could have brought me joy that day but the presence of my grandmother , but she was gone and i found it hard to overcome the situation.
When I was little my mother was with my brothers’ dad and she wasn 't the best mother. I think that I am the way I am today because of how she was and I knew I did not want to be like that. A lot of my
As a child growing up, there were times I would feel my mother would be out to just make
When I was nine years old, my parents, two siblings, and uncle decided that it was time for us to move from Missouri up to chilly Massachusetts. Both my uncle and father were construction workers. There were so many projects in Massachusetts, it was sensible for us to move. Financially, this was also the solution to our money problems. All around we were all very excited for this move, all except for myself. About halfway to Massachusetts, I had a gut feeling that this was a bad decision. Upon arrival, I felt like a fish out of water and, I was. Everything was so different compared to how Missouri was.
I can remember sitting in class, feeling eyes burning through me, dodging inquisitive glances from all sides, and anxiously awaiting the bell to ring for lunchtime. As most people know, lunch is the most dreaded part of the first day at a new school. First day of school memories are still fairly vivid for me; my father was in the JAG corps in the Army and my family moved with biannual regularity. In fact, I even attended three different high schools. While this may seem highly undesirable to some, I learned an incredible amount about myself, the world, and other people through movement that I may never have learned otherwise.
Even before my first tear hits the ground, my mother is there to wipe it away. My mother feels my pain before I can even realize it. She understands my needs before I can even think of them. That’s why we call her a mother. My mother has been an extraordinary influence on my life and always will be. She’s the kind of mom who would always take time out and care for her four children and the mom who would never let her hardships in her life distress her kids. My mother has always been a very strong role model to me, and growing up with someone like her to look up to has changed my life in many ways. She has helped me grow physically, intellectually, and considerately. She taught me to always love, care, and give back to the people I am grateful for.
Even though I clearly remember all the sanity me and my little family went through. I never wanted them to know their mother just up and disappear on them. I took a deep breath and was about ready to tell them the whole truth. They already knew too much. But right before I could speak, I became suddenly unspoken-less. They gave me this look, not a look of sadness, more like a look of pride and honor. They both huddle close to me and gave me a hug. The words that came from their mouths next. I 'll never forget
My mother was taking care of me, and my three other siblings all alone by herself. When my father was living my mother only had one job, but now she had to work more. She had a massive impact on our lives by making sure we had everything we needed. Because I was the oldest of my siblings, I felt like I was a parent. At just eight years old, I had to skip school just to make sure my siblings had someone to look after them while my mother worked. I was obligated to feed them, give them baths, and put clothes on them. It was very difficult, but I knew my mother had to pay bills, and take care of us and herself, so I knew she couldn’t afford a babysitter. When times got very tough, my mom would get stressed out and take it out on us by throwing tantrums, hollering at us and beating on us. I didn’t have a choice but to encourage my mother, and be the one to push her to not give
It was the second semester of fourth grade year. My parents had recently bought a new house in a nice quite neighborhood. I was ecstatic I always wanted to move to a new house. I was tired of my old home since I had already explored every corner, nook, and cranny. The moment I realized I would have to leave my old friends behind was one of the most devastating moments of my life. I didn’t want to switch schools and make new friends. Yet at the same time was an interesting new experience.
My mother was a god to me in those days, and in my eyes she could do no wrong. I think she understood this, and in turn she lavished attention on me like I was a princess in my own little world whose wishes were to be carried out no matter the cost. We were close, too, and not a day went by when I did not divulge some sort of secret knowledge to my mom.
Asking my father for money or if he wanted to buy gum. My father would give them a dollar or buy few peices of gum. I notice my father face look unhappy and try hard to smile. I ask my mom " why does kids doing that?", my mother respond and explain to me that some families where very poor and the hole family would work to be able to survive, even if it ment to put there children to work. I can tell even my mother look sad. There was silent for a good while. My mother put on music to cheer up, that always