I Am My Am Mike

It all started on a warm sunny day, my dad had just arrived from Michigan. He came into the house gave my siblings, my mother and me a hug and told us the big news. “We are moving to Michigan” he said. He said it so calmly as if expecting my siblings, my mother and myself to react in a good way. Immediately I started to panic, I didn’t want to leave the place I grew up in. I was only eleven years old, I didn’t know how the people in Michigan would be. Finally I spoke “ I don’t want to move dad, I love it here!” which he responded with “I’m sorry but we are going to move because we can’t afford to live here anymore” He said this so emotionless as if not knowing how this could affect me. I hardly got any sleep that night for the fact that my parents were arguing for what felt like all night, but in reality was just an hour.

Since I was a child, my mother would tell me to try my hardest in school. She told me thought thing because as a child, she never had the opportunity to go to school. She only completed up to 4th grade, because her family couldn’t pay the tuition to attend. She would had to wake up at 4oclock in the morning to sell food, to make a living for her family. We were fortunate enough to be able to come to the United States in 2005, but tragedy happens a year later. She received a phone call, saying that my father was in a serious car accident, on the night of Christmas Eve, he passed away. Since then my mother, became a single mother having to support two children by herself in a new country. There

It was late October, 2011, when my parents told me we’re moving. I didn’t believe them. “What kind of joke is this? This is jaw dropping.“ But later, a sudden coldness hit at my core and I realized that they were serious. More deliberate questions popped in my mind. “Why would we move? What about my friends? Who is going to pay for the house?” These were all questions that initially ran through my jumbled mind. My parents refused to answer my questions. This however, got me extremely angry. How could they force such a change in my life and ignore my questions? My parents were being bitter, not because they were making me move, but because they were completely ignoring my feelings and questions. My opinions, pointless and powerless, meant nothing to them because the choice has already been made. After all, I’m pretty sure no one would like to move to a new country and adapt to a new environment.

I’m from Ghana which is a West African country; I came to the U.S when I was 8 years old. I went to elementary and middle school. However during my freshmen year in high school, my parents were not getting along so well. Fights, yelling, electricity and water getting sadly became more frequent due to my dad. However my mom always told me how important school was and how I shouldn’t focus on what’s going on at home but instead focus on school. I was the child that would jump at the opportunity to get out the house. My mom and I moved away from my dad about a year now and I will never forget us two going to Giant and having the best time of our lives there weirdly enough. My mom doesn’t have a lot but makes the best she can for me. If I won this

I lost my mother to breast cancer at the age of 14. My Father lived out of state at the time and returned to Colorado shortly after. My sister and I lived with my Aunt and Uncle after her passing. My sister was only 5 years old at the time. My expectation was to naturally go and live with my Father. When this did not happen and I had no explanation as to why and I reacted as any other teenager would. I rebelled with the strength of a thousand teenagers. I justified my every action with the idea that I should be with my Father and this is worth fighting for. I spent years running away and being caught at school. I had always wanted to finish school but didn’t want to be away from my Father. Finally after exhausting the justice system and my Aunt and Uncle. I was allowed to live with my Father at the cost of being separated from my sister. In about 6 short months I found out the hard way why I was kept from my Father. My father was a heroin addict. He disappeared for several weeks at a time. At one point our rent was due and I had to figure out how to pay. I requested time off from school and explained my situation in hopes

The next morning I woke up and everyone was still quiet, I got ready for school and went along my way. When I got to school I got called out into the commons area to speak with my teacher. I was horrified, I thought I was in trouble. Our counselor was out there and kept asking me questions about my step dad. I didn’t lie, I told them what he used to do and how he is. She sent me back to class and I didn’t think about it until I got home. When I got off the bus I stopped at my neighbors to play with their dog for a few minutes like I did everyday, but when I got home my step dad wasn’t home. He was always home when I got out of school so I was confused. Hailey was at cross country practice so I was home alone and scared. My mom got off at five so I waited until she got home to ask her what was going on. When she got home she made me go with her pick up Hailey from practice and then she said we had to go somewhere. I thought we were going to get ice cream or something, but it wasn’t a sweet treat. We had to go to this office place. We pulled into the parking lot and my stepdad came out of the building. He

The last six months of my life started off with me sleeping in the Jiac center (juvinelle intake center). I’ve been hoping house to house for the past six months, looking for a permanate placement. I was born here in Kansas city, Kansas and lived with my parents until age eight; I then moved in with my mother since she had full custody and from so on she found a guy she really liked and he messed up her housing, me and my sister Jessica slept in the car us three together. In the middle of all of that someone reported my mom to the child of protective services and they took my sister and me both in and moved us to our fathers house. We lived here from my age nine to eleven and through out those years it was nothing but physical and verbal abuse to both me and my sister and at age ten is when I very first went into the system of foster care and been in ad out since. I have lived in a total of 15 homes or more. I used to go to paces for a therapist thar diagnosis me with deression and bipolar disporders. I have gone to eight different schools over the years two in elementary and

As I turned to do my homework, my dad started to ask me something. About, maybe five-foot-eleven, he works for the school district. He always gets me a snack every once in awhile. “Sharlene, I want to ask you something. How do you feel about changing schools?” I was never, ever prepared to be asked this question. I mean, why should I be prepared? Everything was going great for me. I went to Union House Elementary, I won the school’s spelling

One day I moved to Indiana to live with my Dad, Step-Mom, and my little brother Evan. I want to have a deeper relationship with them. I am the second oldest child out of five kids. My Mom and Dad separated when I was young. My Dad got with my Step-Mom when I was 4 years old. They got married when I was 7 years old. I have three brothers and one sister. Their names are Jason, Zechariah, Evan and Bryttina. On July 5, 2015 I packed all my belongings into boxes and put them in my Step-Dad’s truck and left to go to Fishers Indiana. Where my Step-Dad, Mom, and big brother Jason met my Step-Mom, her friend Dana, and little brother Evan. I was excited to see them. I put my stuff in Dana’s van. Then we headed to Evansville Indiana.

Let's go back 4 years to when I was in k3. That whole year my teachers didn’t believe in me know one did no one except my mom and my dad. Once my teachers said I was never going to ever read at my grade level and I just might have to stay one more year. My parents were furious they said watch our son will be able to read at grade level by the end of the year no even above reading level. So my parents worked hard my mom would sit there and help me read books,while my dad was out working more and buying books he worked so much my dad was barely home. My parents were hard headed when they say they can do it they can do it. For the rest of the school year I read and read and read until. I was able to not just read my level but not a 1st grade level in early

During these times I attended a lousy school, this school had relatively wonderful teacher but the student was not the best. The environment there change my personality and because I was young I allowed the student to change me. I did not quite see anything of it because the way I acted was the same as others around me. Thinking back I was quite a rough child to deal with, I would always receive a timeout in class and occasionally the teacher would call my parents this would happen about once or twice a week or for two. My parents would always become frustrated with me because the Hawi they knew at home wouldn't act up like that. This continued on for about two years and a half. It did not matter how much they lectured me or wouldn't let me watch tv shows I wanted I wouldn't change. My parents stopped trying to change me, sometimes they would threaten me by saying that I would go back to Ethiopia and live with my grandmother, clearly that did not happen because I'm still here. Every Sunday's my mother would pray on behalf of me and light a candle. By the grace of God I've changed for the better, I've asked my mother why she did not send me to Ethiopia and she replied my saying “how could I ever give up hope to a daughter that I gave birth to.”

When I was five years old my biological parents had to make a difficult choice. They had to send me to sunny San Diego because they were not financially able to take care of me. I moved into my aunt and uncle's house, Rayleen Montesi and Brian Montesi. I couldn’t believe that they were able to take care of a really obnoxious and rude child. From the start of school everyday when I would come home, I never wanted to do my homework or take my studying seriously. After school everyday in first grade, I would come home and cry for almost thirty minutes because of how badly I did not want to do my homework.

I decided to drop out my freshman year of high school. Dropping out of school is because my grandma past on my 15th birthday, but promising me before her death that she would be there with me through my journey of high school. I was at a basketball game when I found out my grandma had fell from using the toilet and couldn’t breath, my uncle "grandpa" was the one at the house with her at the time of her fall. He tried recovering her with oxygen and providing her CPR. He brought her back, but then 30 seconds later she past again. He called the paramedics, they have arrived to the scene immediately after the call. They rushed her to the hospital. I was at the basketball game when I got the second call from my cousins' stating that my grandma

I walked into the center with my mother holding my hand and my mother signed me in for school at the front desk, including signing herself into work. I walked away from my mother into the classroom that I was assigned to and sat on the table with my classmates with Ms. Pat, my teacher at the time. Additionally, my teacher led us outside to play games in the playground, where I played with my fellow classmates and I was under the supervision of another Teacher Aide, while I played on the apparatus. There were some students drawing a picture for them on the beige lunch tables by the stairs to the entrance of playground in the front yard. Sometime had passed, it was becoming close to the time of the end of my mother’s work shift at the Preschool. I walked into the center’s entrance, where I saw that my mom was signing herself out on her time card and I started to cry because I did not like my mom leaving me alone at school by myself. After my mom left to her other job at the Goodwill at the time, a sub-teacher started to approach me, grabbing me into a tight grip on my forearm and dragging me into the girl’s restroom in front of the mirror above the sink. It was there at everything became in slow motion, “Why are you crying so ugly? Look at your ugly, White self in the mirror, crying like a disgusting child. Why are you getting beet red? Cry, cry until

It was just an ordinary day, wake up around 10 o’clock, eat breakfast, and screw around with my siblings. I was living with my mom at the time in a little yet awesome town, atlantic was the name of the town that we lived in. We didn't have much of anything, food, toys, clothes, and we didn't really have rules because my mom didn't really care what we did, or where we went. And i hate to admit it but i had a horrible life for the most part. But this ordinary day had changed really quickly when my mom had woke up. A few weeks ago i had talked to my dad on the phone and i told him i wanted to live with him so he had talked to mom about it behind my back and without me knowing anything about it.