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Conclusion of women entrepreneurs
Conclusion of women entrepreneurs
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There's no energy that can mimic what's released when a positive, high-stepping woman enters a room. The attitude of a successful woman is the fuel needed to drive us from idea conception to realization.
I remember as a child, hearing dishes clinking in the kitchen, the smell of coffee, and the sound of frying bacon. I always woke to these little sounds that became a comfort when I heard them, because mommy was in the kitchen. She always looked at me with her big brown eyes and long brunet curly hair and smiled at me. She would pull out the kitchen chair and say “good morning lady bug”, I always responded with a giggle. I remember when she hugged me every morning her hair would cover my face it always smelt of roses, her body smelt of vanilla, and her clothes were pressed and neat. I loved my mother dearly, and cherished every moment with her as I was a little girl.
My mother’s attitude towards everyone was always so prude, and kurt. I never knew why she acted one way towards me, and choose to act another when she put on this beautiful pressed suit. As years past by in my life, I would go to my mother’s office, where I was told to be quite and stay in a room. I remember occasionally peeking out to see something going on, nothing but to hear phones ring, and my mother talking on the phone. I never knew what I was supposed to do when I got there, never knew the purpose, and couldn’t quite understand why I was forced to sit in a quiet room, with just a television, and some plants. It was the most boring place I could ever imagine being, and couldn’t think why my sweet, loving mother would want to be in such an awful place.
My childhood I could remember being quite nice, and simple. We traveled, and I never remembering wanting...
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...ough. I was respected, acknowledged, and most important; I was a smart, I was successful and I was a woman! My attitude changed, I was happy to be with my mother every day, I was like her. I was proud I was like her; I had a sense of self worth. She taught me to be tough, handle hurtful words, criticism, control and structure. She was molding me into a successful woman. I finally understood. The greatest point of resistance is just before breakthrough. We must have a stubborn resolve to see ourselves to the other side. When challenging circumstances seek to derail us, if we just take that next step, we'll find that we've made it. Our lives revolve around four major categories: family and friends, health, wealth and spirit. These areas must be balanced to lead a fulfilled life. My mother was aware of this, and instilled it in me, which made me the person I am today.
I, of course, knew my mother as a mother. As I have reached adulthood and become a mother myself, I have also known her as a friend. My mom shared much of herself with me, and I saw sides of my mother as she struggled with her cancer that I had never seen before, especially her strong belief in positive thinking and the importance of quality of life. I was privileged to know so many facets of my mother, but certainly I did not know all. There were parts of her life that I didn’t see, relationships that I didn’t know about. Last night, at the wake, so many stories were told to me about my mom’s strength, courage, humor, kindness, her quietness, her loyalty as a friend. It was so special to hear of these things that my mom said and did, to know some of these other parts of her life. I hope that her friends and family will continue to share these stories with me and with each other so we can continue to know and remember my mom.
TS - Harwood succinctly explores the memory of motherhood as a quintessential part of being human in the poem, “Mother who gave me Life”.
Equality for Women in the business world always has been a reason for debate. However the article "Why It's So Hard For Working Women To Get Ahead, And What We Can Do About It", written by Jillian Berman is written to get employers to make it easier on the female members of their teams.The article was posted in the beginning of 2014 in The Huffington Post. Jillian is an Associate Business Editor for the Huffington Post. She is an opinion based writer who uses her "freedom of speech" to write about many different topics. In this article, Jillian discusses the shyness that women experience when in the working field which keeps them from reaching higher positions. By writing this article, Jillian is putting out a request to employers to assist women since they tend to be shyer, more modest, and have a hard time "selling themselves to their employers". The article written informally, begins with Jillian's personal experience. By including personal details and supporting opinions, Jillian makes her article extremely effective.
Growing up, Alice’s parents did not show much affection to each other or to their children. When Alice was a young girl, she would play “house” with Barbie and Ken where they were married and would divorce because Ken “does not touch.” Alice would beg her father to kiss her mother goodbye when he was leaving for his long trips to Spain, making a scene from the backseat of the car. Alice mentions that once on a playdate with one of her neighborhood friends, the girl told her how her mother thought Alice’s family was weird. It was at this moment that Alice recognized her family was different from others, that her parents did not kiss each other or play games with their children like other parents did. Instead, Alice’s family always locked themselves away. Her mother would stay locked away in her room, where she would throw up blood from being an alcoholic. Her father would lock himself away in his study, when he was home. Her sister would lock herself away in her room. Alice craved affection and attention so badly that she would purposely let the basset hounds run around with maxi pads so that the entire family would be chasing them around the house. Eventually, however, the dogs were caught and everyone would retreat back into their own rooms (Sebold, 2017). Another time Alice craved attention was when she and her father were visiting colleges. They stayed at a hotel overnight and Alice placed ice cubes under the covers by her father’s feet. She could not contain her laughter when he got into bed and this led to an ice-war inside their hotel room. Alice informs the reader that she had never seen her father so care-free before (Sebold, 2017). Another time Alice mentions her desire for affection from her mother is when she would lay on the couch next to her mother and slowly inch her way into her mother’s lap. She would complain of having a headache just so that her mother would rub her head, until a
There is a woman, she will always in the softest place in your heart, you would like to spend all your life to love her; there is a love, it is Real and selfless and it will never stop, you do not need to return anything...... This man, called "mother ", this love, called" Motherhood "! “Mothers” by Anna Quindlen. I could not stop reading this essay again and again, because this essay tells exactly what I want to say when I am young. My parents leave me alone when I am 6 years old. They have to work outside of the country, during that time, transport and communication is not as convenient as now. So I can only see them once in three years. Growing up with “knowing that I have a mother and she is never around me whenever I need her”
It was enough for any mom to have a nervous breakdown. All Marilyn remembered was her mother being in and out of hospitals. Marilyn’s mother was working long hours at the film lab just to make ends meet. She became very tired and nervous; life became difficult for her. She had been sent to the Norwalk State hospital for Mental Diseases for a rest when Marilyn was only five years old.
Soon thereafter my parents split up and I could feel their discord; like vibrations of hate upon snapping wires. They seemed to become somehow physically incapable of co-habiting the same spaces. It was as if something physiological that was once inside them was taken from them. Stolen was that strange organ that makes people feel the sincere need to be near someone else. As I grew older I began to observe my mother and her bizarre behaviors. Her anxious isolations and her pill bottle like a Xanax Barbie stuck to her hand. She was always so far away from me. I would sit and wonder where she would go; off to some corner of her mind where up was down and all the wrong in life was right. She was safe behind a closed door; in silence and stillness. I was always alone; and always lonely, with my mother in the next room. She may as well have been a million miles away from me. The older I got the colder the hugs became; it was like she was tired of faking it.
I have always grown up around the influence of hard work. My mother and father’s life together began off to a rough start. My mother got pregnant at the age of 20 with my brother. Her family was not very supportive of it; therefore, she was on her own. She used to tell me about how she would sit and cry in a one bedroom apartment that she lived in with my brother wondering what she was going to do. Although she had to grow up faster than she
When I was born, my mother breast fed me for two weeks, I stayed in the hospital room with her instead of going to the nursery, and she was home with me for the first five years of my life. My father worked and my mother tended to the home, with the help of her mother and grandmother. I ate Gerber baby jarred food and my mother read to me every night. My family did not adhere to many other cultural norms however. It was culturally expected that a husband and wife would have a home, with stable jobs and an established relationship before having children. My father was eight years my mother’s senior, and my mother was only 18 when I was born. My mother never earned her high school diploma. My parents were married the month before I was born. My father worked in construction and had a criminal record. Every single one of these descriptions violates the cultural norms of where I grew up in North Carolina. Although my story starts to sound a lot like a Lifetime movie, my mother defied all odds to provide a safe and secure haven for me. “When they sense that a parent is consistent and dependable, they develop a sense of basic trust in the parent” (Crain, 283). I could rely on my parents and trust that they would be there to take care of me which lead to my development of “the core ego strength of this period: hope” which emerges from the child developing a favorable balance of trust over mistrust. “Hope is the expectation that despite frustrations, rages, and disappointments, good things will happen in the future” (Crain, 285). My mother is the living embodiment of that sentiment. As early as I can remember, I can remember her insistence that as long as we were together, we were
Throughout my life my mother has always been my backbone and push me to strive for excellence and be academically perfect. I was taught to go above and beyond everyone else in class and work nonstop without excuses. However, the pressure from my mom triggered a negative effect in me and I eventually shutdown. Though I still managed to finish strong I felt that I did it to please my mom. That is why going to college is so important to me because I know that I can go to college and be triumphant on my own, so right now I am pushing through adversity in an attempt to prove myself right.
Life in the middle school and high school was not easy for me. I had become an introvert, I still didn’t know how to be social, and I had very few friends. I was teased for being very quiet, and some people insinuated that I’m scared of fellow people. On the other hand life at home was difficult. My mother had become so bitter and pleased her was next to impossible. She became very harsh with my brother and me, and we were always scolded for even the smallest mistakes. Once in a while, my father would come for us and take us to the city he lived. I would look out of the windows as we drove out of town and would imagine how life in another city would feel like. I looked at the skies, and all I saw were promises of a better future. All my life I had lived in San
I wearily drag myself away from the silken violet comforter and slump out into the living room. The green and red print of our family’s southwestern style couch streaks boldly against the deep blues of the opposing sitting chairs, calling me to it. Of course I oblige the billowy haven, roughly plopping down and curling into the cushions, ignoring the faint smell of smoke that clings to the fabric. My focus fades in and out for a while, allowing my mind to relax and unwind from any treacherous dreams of the pervious night, until I hear the telltale creak of door hinges. My eyes flutter lightly open to see my Father dressed in smart brown slacks and a deep earthy t-shirt, his graying hair and beard neatly comber into order. He places his appointment book and hair products in a bag near the door signaling the rapid approaching time of departure. Soon he is parading out the door with ever-fading whispers of ‘I love you kid,’ and ‘be good.’
On the day my father died, I remember walking home from school with my cousin on a November fall day, feeling the falling leaves dropping off the trees, hitting my cold bare face. Walking into the house, I could feel the tension and knew that something had happened by the look on my grandmother’s face. As I started to head to the refrigerator, my mother told me to come, and she said that we were going to take a trip to the hospital.
The challenges that my mother faced were, lying, stealing, cheating, running way, being promiscuous, and most offensively disrespecting my mother in every way possible. After observing these challenges I was determined that when I was a mom I would have a plan of action ready to use at a moment’s notice just as our armed forces have a plan of action when entering a battlefield. I was determined to have a plan of action for almost every conceivable offence against the house rules. I formulated the most basic house rules that I could put together than encompassed the basic rules of life which are: respect others, be kind to others, love others, forgive others, do not lie nor deceive, cheat nor steal, do your part, and most importantly remember who you are, what you stand for and what you
It was on a Friday morning at 4:30 A.M. that happiness and joy filled the hearts of both my parents. I was born on November 29, 1996 at Broward General Hospital in Fort Lauderdale Florida. My parents had five children, and among the five children that they had, I was the third (or middle) child from them. It started off as two boys, then I came along as the first girl, after it was another boy, then finally, another baby girl; so total was three boys and two girls. The way that my parents lived and treated each other was the same as if any other married couple that loved each other so much. They’ve gone through a lot to get to where they are now today, but they made it and along the way had us five children. They have been really strong with each other which made them only have the five of us and no other step children. My mom is a great cook and enjoy cooking for us; this is probably where my passion for culinary comes from. My dad is an amazing tailor, he is very good at making our clothes, and my passion for fashion probably came from him. My dad is also a teacher, one of the best math teacher I know, he is passionate about his job and his family is the center of his universe. I cannot finish this chapter without mentioning my grandmother, I was lucky enough to have ever met. I had spent part of my life time with her, like the rest of the family she is sweet, my grandmother Abelus,