A Life Saved The water droplets roll down my forehead as I lay in my bed looking at the water damaged ceiling. At twelve years old I slept in a one window attic in a tattered bed, under a leaky roof. I do not have any family nor friends to speak of and no real optimism for the future. School was my only outlet yet it was also beginning to be the root of my humiliation and embarrassment. Leaving school today with tears in my eyes and my teacher’s voice ringing in my head all I could ponder was this can’t be my life. Yet something my teacher said struck me as odd; she said “what we experience as a child helps to mold who we will eventually become”. I truly could not fathom at that age what kind of comfort she believed I would take from that. …show more content…
My life began in Stockton, California on March 29, 1988 at Dameron Hospital. In 1991, I was placed into the system as a foster child still unclear as to if this was voluntary or involuntary. Between the years of 1991 and 1992 I basically lived in a hospital due to my profound injuries. I was stabbed six times, suffered a spinal injury and had to endure several medical procedures to fix the damage. By 1993 at the age of five I was released to the care of my grandmother who cared for me until September 12, 1996 when she died from natural causes. At this point I was shuffled around from group homes to orphanage, from orphanage to foster homes, and from foster homes back to group homes. From 1996 to 2000 I lived in six group homes, four different states, three orphanage and 16 different foster homes. Every awful thing possible that could happen did happen. I was molested, beaten, starved, abandon, homeless, raped, degraded, verbally abused, ……etc. All of the emotional, physical and spiritually abuse I received caused me to be a very confused, resentful, and extremely depressed child. Whose only wish was for this life to end or for things to somehow improve overnight. Although I did have a few good families and some wonderful times but they were so few and far between that they felt more like dreams rather than actual
The world has experienced many changes in past generations, to the present. One of the very most important changes in life had to be the changes of children. Historians have worked a great deal on children’s lives in the past. “While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about.”- Author Unknown
The orphanage had its up's and downs I remember certain things such as Movie and gave nights. I remember feeling a sense of coldness I had never felt before I was lonely and at times afraid. From there I went to my first foster home I believe her name was Ms. B I think I was about 12 year's old going there. At this time I was use to not being with my mom and being my own man. Yes man at the age of 12, starting off it wasn’t so bad there was another kid there with the same name as mine. He and I use to sit up and talk about what and who we were going to be when you grew up. There were times when Ms. Johnson had her boyfriend come over to the house they would listen to loud music and drink she got so drunk that at times she made Marquise and I stand in the corner all night long for no good reason at all. I remember visiting my mom in rehab telling her all of what she was doing to me how I didn’t want to be there how mean and lonely it was there. I guess I was thinking I was going to go home someday as she was in rehab getting clean from the drugs. The years went by as I still sat in what felt like a prison with its ups and downs. I talked with my case worker about what was going on in the home they later moved me
Nostalgic finales just seem too good to be real with the quaint happy endings that typically conclude fairy tales; not with Flannery O'Connor's writings, which depict sarcasm with disquieting twists and mordant characters. One of O'Connor's most successful works, "The Life You Save May Be Your Own" epitomizes her writing style that is characteristically seen by many as grotesque and sardonic. This short story represents the antithesis of a fairy tale, ingeniously warping its vital elementsdamsel in distress (Lucynell, the daughter), the mother (Mrs. Lucynell Crates), and knight in shining armor (Mr. Shiftlet)to make its readers see the latent malevolence of all human beings. Utilizing a keen consideration on each fictional component in the story, O'Connor conveys her message effectively by contrasting hideousness against pulchritude. She makes effectual use of liars to demonstrate the truth. O'Connor's deep perspective is evident in the way she inflicts ruthless challenges to the characters in the story.
You can tell a lot about a story by its title. Some might say that this is judging a book by its cover, however a title is basically an overview of the entire story, summarized in less than ten words. Flannery O’Connor’s (1925-1964) story, The Life you save May be Your Own, has a gargantuan title. From this title, you can infer that the ending of this story is a life changing one. This story has a very grotesque theme. However, it takes place in a very well light area, which shows a lot of contrast to the dark theme. In this story, its starts off with a man who has had an exciting past meet with a family who has most certainly not. He seems nice, but throughout the story, the characters show their true colors. By the end, the story takes a sharp turn from blissful to outrageous. There are three reasons why the title of Flannery O’ Connor’s story, The Life You Save May be Your Own, relates so well to the text.
Marita Bonner starts her short essay by describing the joys and innocence of youth. She depicts the carefree fancies of a cheerful and intelligent child. She compares the feelings of such abandonment and gaiety to that of a kitten in a field of catnip. Where the future is opened to endless opportunities and filled with all the dream and promises that only a youth can know. There are so many things in the world to see, learn, and experience that your mind in split into many directions of interest. This is a memorable time in life filled with bliss and lack of hardships.
Jasmine Beckford’s case is the oldest out of the three; in 1984 Jasmine died as a result of long-term abuse aged 4. In 1981 her and her younger sister suffered serious injuries and were paced with foster carers for six months. After this they were allowed back home with their mother on a trial basis as social services were meant to support them. During the last ten months of Jasmine’s life she was only seen once by social workers (Corby, 2006).
Berger, K. S. (2012). The developing person: through childhood and adolescence. (9th ed.). New York, NY: Worth Publishers.
People look at you like you’re the one to blame. They see your tattered sneakers and tangled, greasy hair, and they think they know you. But how could they? You amble down the sidewalk, keep your head down, your eyes averted. You don’t want any trouble. People are quick to assume that's what you're looking for. Your lips are chapped and your face is dirty. You cannot remember the last time you brushed your teeth, let alone took a shower. The thought makes you laugh almost as much as the thought of your old bedroom walls, the shadows cast by the ceiling fan as you stared up from your bed. You had to leave home. It was taken from you. The adults in your life shifted as you grew older, or perhaps you just grew aware. They took pills or tipped glasses or screamed at you for no particular reason. They kicked you out when you got pregnant, when you got mouthy, when you weren't all they wanted you to be. They got sadistic. They crossed unspeakable lines. You had to leave home. You are barely more than a child. At least, you were before. Now, you are homeless.
Humanity as a whole is complex. Every experience and action that has happened creates and forms a person’s identity. People’s childhood memories and the environment they are born and raised into are the building blocks in creating the character of an individual. The environment that shapes youth will have a lifelong impact. This is shown in Under the Ribs of Death by John Marlyn in Sandors life, living on Henry Avenue in Winnipeg’s North End, through the restriction of ones upbringing, emotions associated with, and the memories attached to an environment.
Since I have came into foster care in 2008 because of neglection, life has been tough at times. In my first foster home, I was so angry at my dad. I took it out on my foster mom; eventually I had to leave. When I arrived at my second home everything seemed fine. In the next few months, things went down hill from there. That was when I found out that my two baby sisters had been adopted, and I wanted to get adopted too. I was 10 years old at the time. I was being beaten by my foster mom, and not being feed. I spent almost a year there. Finally I told my social worker. I got moved to yet another home in Cherryville. I acted so terribly that I stayed there for three weeks. I went to another home to wait for a placement in a PRTF. I lived in the
It’s funny really, how a system with so much potential can blind us to our own potentiality. Our perception of the schooling method of choice has us caged in a self perceived mental prison slowly poisoning us with skin deep ideas and self doubt. From a young age we are taught, (that is, schooled), to put our grades over our mental needs; we are deliberately declawed and expected to conform into a pre tamed society , and all of this for an unfair attempt at what we presume to be “education”. I know that a part of my resilient adventurous youthfulness has been dreadfully replaced by the conformity that comes along with these cinder block walls, and I will forever mourn.
At a young age I was put into foster care. This was something that I would have to say has both its ups and downs. I saw good days and there are other times that I would not see the day at all. I was subjected to abuse, neglect, and even love while in foster care. The reason I was but here is because my mother had too many children and was very abusive. My mother, Rose Brown, was hit by a car at a young age causing her to have several different mental health issues. By the time I was seven my mother had nineteen children. Because of her lack of ability to take care of her children my mother had to put us all in foster care.
From my birth until just recently, I was blanketed by the darkness of an unavoidable false reality; childhood. While it was admittingly care-free, blissful, and were the happiest moments of my life, it fed me false information about the world. The experiences and adult figures in my life were the, “puppeteers,” (para. 1), showing me mere, “shadows, [and the] shadows of one another.” (Para. 5) And I could only see these shadows of reality because I was, “prevented by the chains,” (Para. 1) of ignorance and lack of experience that comes standard with being a child.
There is also a little growth in these cracks, that I am almost positive goes unnoticed for the majority of the time. Each and every component on this sidewalk represents me as a person. Every individual has a beginning that starts the mold of their individuality. This specific sidewalk starts neat and clean, and appears as if nothing has ever harmed or disrupted its’ peace. It is just like I had hoped my life would stay. The troubles of life had a different opinion. Such a time had existed where I did not have to ever have the concern of someone looking at me funny because I might have said something that had upset them. Constant anxiety did not whisper in my ear whenever I opened my mouth. Responsibility that I had inflicted upon myself did not exist. I would be able to tell you exactly how I felt and be able to explain in detail my reasoning behind why I felt that way. I viewed my own life and everyone else’s through optimistic eyes. I was untouchable. Little did I know that all of the optimism would only last but for a season, and that my mind was about to discover the different levels that it has of its’
This paper is supposed to be a reflection of my past and a glimpse into my future. I have a really hard time talking about my past because I don’t recall much of my child hood. I have managed to block out a lot of the memories the bad along with the good. I am not sure why but when I started blocking memories it also took the good along with the bad. So I will tell you what I can remember and what I have been told about my childhood. I will also tell you what my future holds for me and how I plan to reach that goal.