I decided to be an “underpaid” teacher, more specifically English teacher. My mom was upset because she disliked English, the language, the reading, the grammar, everything. We did not speak for four months because of my decision, she was not proud. It hurt to not have my family 's support, but I was not going to let anyone force me to be something I did not want to be. I grew tired of waiting so I decided to be the first to initiate a conversation I went home and sat her down.
It seemed as if every other day my parents were receiving calls from the school about my bad behavior, which didn’t help since I would be punished once more while not aware of the phone calls they received. I felt as if no one had understood me within school as well as at home. I had an unhealthy amount of anger that lingered with me wherever I went. The parenting style they used was an authoritarian and authoritative parenting style. Both of my parents would waver between strict rules that
I never understood the effect that this had on me until recently. My mom tended to get mad at life and take it out on my little sister and me by beating us. From third to ninth grade I lived an awkward life. I grew apart from my mother and sister; I hardly talked to anyone for that matter. One thing I was close with was my grades, I knew that education was the one thing no one would be able to take away from me.
When I was a child, my stepfather was very strict. I remember when he came home from work, he asked me to bring my homework and showed him. If I did something wrong, he got angry and raised his voice, and he told my mother to not let me play with my friends because of mistakes. Since I was a child until now, I can see I don’t have enough confidence in my life because of my past experiences with my step dad, and I always have stress in my life for every single thing. However, hopefully my mother wasn’t strict enough as my father, so she let me enjoy my life as long as my step father wasn’t at home.
I would mostly handle my schoolwork alone in my room, so I never felt like I spent too much time with my mom. However, almost all of my non-homeschooled friends have expressed how they would never be able to handle their parents all day, every day. Speaking on behalf of their parents, I am sure that feeling is mutual. When it becomes time to apply for colleges, public school counselors guide the students step by step through the process and have official transcripts to send in. For homeschoolers, however, the process is different and much more complicated.
When our electricity was shut off, we stopped doing everything. Mom grew tired of having to work all day just to come home to a bunch of rebellious children and a huge mess, so in May we started staying with friends at night and maybe coming home a bit during the day just so we had some time with each other. It seemed the easiest thing to do, given the circumstances. Little did we know that abandoning the house would be our true downfall. On the morning of May 26th, my brother and I left our nightly supervisors’ house early.
I would go to school attend, a club meeting, go to tennis, go to winter percussion after, arrive home, and do my homework in between. At home, my parents would lecture me about how even with my perfect A’s, I was an irresponsible person who colleges would not even consider. Because of this, I was extremely acquiesced when it came to school. Always accepting whatever my elders said quietly and without hesitance. It was not until Mr. Vang and Mrs. Ramirez came to me during their classes and explained to me that I had to mitigate my current situation.
In my teenage years, most of my time was spent in school, and after I left there I would come home to a strung out mother that would be ranting and raving about dishes that needed to be done and telling me about how I was her biggest mistake, and that I was nothing but a lazy, hopeless loser, which I knew wasn’t true, but when you are a child the thoughts just run through your head over and over like a bad dream that you cannot wake up from. During that time, I had to find a way to break out. She would never let me leave the house unless it was to go to school, so I would leave at seven every morning and not return until midnight or later because I couldn’t face the beatings anymore. I began to heavily use drugs and try to escape to a place without pain and fear. Unfortunately, I knew that when I did come home, that I was really in for it.
(Imagine a kid being bullied to the point of them not wanting to live. Kimmie was one kid out of many who dealt with the situation of being harassed. She told her mother that kids at school were bullying her because of her weight and how she looked. Kimmie’s mom ignored her thinking she was over reacting, little did she know she was not. Kimmie would receive daily threats online telling her to “kill herself” and saying things like “Why are you still alive?” The next morning after Kimmie’s mom dropped her off at school she ditched class and went into an abandoned apartment building down the block to wait for the school day to be done, so she would not have to face the kids who tormented her.
Though she failed to have a true connection with her kids because she beat them and didn't tell them about herself. If you look back at what Ruth did, one thing sticks out the most. Schooling topped her list of what she expected the kids to attend. Ruth was so hardcore about it, she would end up staying up all night and falling asleep in someone's homework. Not that the kids weren't bright, just the teachers were the main reason they didn't get the grades they earned.