Development over the Lifespan

Decent Essays
| Development Over the Lifespan | Third Quarter Psychology Project | | Christina Chantharavongsa | 3/24/2013 |


My full name is Christina Kaysone Chantharavongsa and I was born March 23, 1995 in Bridgeport Hospital located in Bridgeport, Connecticut. It was a little city and a small world since a ton of people would know each other. My parents were in an arranged marriage and were both moved to the United States from Laos during their high school years. But I’m actually half Laotian and Thai since my mom’s side is Thai from Thailand although she was born in an Asian Southeastern country called Laos. I’m the second oldest out of four children with two sisters and one brother. The order goes from Sarah, Christina (me),
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My little sister Anita was born at the time and having a baby sibling around made me feel like a big kid or a parent. I loved holding her and feeding her with a bottle my mom taught me to do while she worked at a night shift (maturation). My fourth grade year is probably the time I went through the most out of my elementary school years. I found out things were getting hectic between my parents. I would see them fight almost every day about money, cheating, and where did they go in their free time. One night when my mom came home from grocery shopping they were verbally fighting and yelling at each other. I heard it from the living room and I went into the kitchen to see them. All of a sudden, I just saw my dad pushed her into the ground and started beating her. She eventually escaped from his grip and ran into my sister’s room. She called the police and they came and arrested him for assault. I couldn’t do much because I just stood there witnessing in shock. They divorced in October while it was the beginning of my fifth grade year. I started to go through depression since the whole thing happened. I grew bitter, unmotivated for school, and even crueler towards my family and animals. I had terrible grades in my report card and I tend to get embarrassed with my teacher yelling at me. I cried over the smallest things that would happen in class. People started giving me sympathy but then got tired of it because it happened often. Around the winter time my mom started to
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