I Want To Break Stereotypes

If you say you’ve never heard a stereotype about someone else or yourself, you’re either a liar or very oblivious. Stereotypes are simplified conceptions of a group, and they are literally everywhere. People often tend to assume that all Asians are geniuses, black people like watermelon and listen to rap, white girls crave Starbucks 24/7 and are always wearing leggings or yoga pants, the elderly don’t understand technology, and homosexual men are flamboyant and love fashion. No matter what race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, or age group someone belongs to, he or she most likely has a stereotype attached to who he or she is. Sometimes, these assumptions are in fact true, but other times they are completely inaccurate. Many are

When I am in class or talking with friends, something I think goes unnoticed is my ethnicity and realities in my life outside of school. I am from Eritrea, a country in East Africa, however people do not seem to notice. When classmates I have known for years realize that I am Eritrean, let alone African, they are surprised. They say I don’t sound African because I don’t have an accent (affiliated with certain parts of Africa), nor do I look African because my skin tone is not as dark and my hair is long. It is interesting to me how they categorized all Africans to these few characteristics when it is simply not the case. The ignorance that causes people to stereotype is the reason why I wear my ethnicity proudly on my sleeve so certain people

I came home one day to see both of my parents sad. As a third grader, I didn’t completely understand at the time, but my father had been laid off from the job he’d had since his teenage years. My father had started at the age of eighteen as a student worker at Southern Miss, and after years of hard work he had been promoted to the manager of shipping and receiving on campus. When the recession struck, the need to save money resulted in his position being terminated. My father was without a job. My father loved that job and when he lost it, he changed. He found a new love, alcohol. He let his love for alcohol become an addiction. He would do anything for alcohol; he even had secret stashes when my mom had removed all the prior alcohol from the house. Quickly my father became a violent drunk and began to routinely beat my mother and me. He became unstoppable; no person could get him back on track so my mother, in an attempt to keep me safe, removed him from the house. Even my mother’s best efforts weren’t always enough, as my father constantly broke into our house. One day my mother and I came home and my father was waiting in our den with a gun. We walked in, he pointed the gun at us, and then back at himself. He couldn’t decide to kill my mother, himself, or just all of us. He had more hatred in his eyes

My dad cheated on my mom when I was five years old my youngest sister was only four months old. At the time I obviously did not understand what was really happening. My grandmother told me a few years back about the day my dad sat down with me and told me that he was leaving our house. She said I called her and cried and said that I didn’t have a family anymore. She said that broke her heart and knowing how I felt about this at only age five breaks my heart today. Although my parents did split up my dad went to live back with his mother. We were able to see him every Tuesday, Wednesday and every other weekend. He actually used to be my hero. When I was in third grade both my parents found new people to be with. My dad actually was dating the women he cheated on my mom with. My mom was dating some guy she met online who became my step father. This affected my life greatly. I hated moving back and forth from house to house, I have been afraid of my dad my whole life I could say he had this tone of voice and everything he did was yell and scream. He used to hit

You see, when I was 5 years old my father decided he no longer loved my mother, my brother, me, or the child they would soon bring into the world, my sister. He decided to move out for “work” and come home every couple of months for a week or so and pretend everything was perfect. He was 50 years old, I was 7, before he finally left for good. I blamed myself for years, hell, I still blame myself, 10 years later. I still need to realize that if he were a real father, nothing that I could have done, or anyone else, would have made him leave. So I’ve never had a strong trust of males in my life.

I didn’t grow up in the best of circumstances. I grew up in a neighborhood filled to the brim with crime. My father was a low ranking gang member with little to no room for advancement. My mother was a heroin addict. Or whatever she had on hand. Sometimes my father joined her, but when he got high or drunk he became very abusive. That was typically when I snuck out and hid out at a friend’s house for a few hours. But I never stayed the night. My father made a habit of visiting my room, as if trying to make up for the fact that every time that he lifted his hand, maybe to catch my attention or something harmless like that, I would flinch away from him.

During my childhood my mother and father expected me, my brother and two sisters to be respectful, obedient and polite. They set a conservative tone for our house that was not as strict as a boarding school, but there were similarities. Now that is not to say they beat us, or were mean, in fact they loved us very much but the love was shown from a specific distance. We talked, we laughed, but we never talked loudly, and we never laughed too much. I can remember hugging my dad, but it was when I was pretty little. I guess he felt that I was a boy, and as such I had to stand on my own. My only problem was he worked so much I never really learned how to stand on my own as a man. He never taught me how to defend myself. My mom always told me to walk away from a fight, problem is kids don’t view the world as adults, and the kid looking to avoid a fight probably didn’t know how to fight, and that was just too tempting a target to pass up. After we mover to Cerritos it was different, my relationship with my dad changed. He was getting home after work on time, he was around in the evenings and on weekends. I could see he was more relaxed, under less stress than he had been before and it was great! We started doing things together more regularly. We went deep sea fishing 4 or 5 times a year, we went to science fairs, hobby shops and down to the local harbors and checked out sail boats. I was getting to know him, where he came from,

It started when my parents pulled me out of 2nd grade. I went from being an extravert to being an introvert. My parents never did anything. My mom taught me until 6th grade and she didn't even do it right, then it stopped. I stopped being around anybody, only a few cousins, and that's it. After 14, I quit going anywhere and started staying in for months then it got to a year. Now? I had a seizure in 2012 and went through hell and back with complete arguments and depression with my father. He even called the cops because I was complaining at him. I didn't mean to. WHen I have a seizure, I completely am unaware, and I remember coming back with him talking to the cops, because I spilled something on his carpet. My mother got me, but he let me back in a few days after.

I believe in being brave; I force myself everyday to step out of the box that society constantly builds around me. Growing up I was not encouraged to feel important or that I could achieve greatestness. Society and my own traditional culture created a set of ideas in me that held me from believing in myself. Over time I have realized that it is ultimately up to me to break the cycle and break way from the stereotypes. A woman’s voice matters whether as a professional or as a mother. In order to survive as a women in the 21st century, the unspoken laws must be broken, ours goals should be set higher, and we must not underestimate our will and power.

He lives in Massachusetts and I see him only two times a year. If anyone knows a thing about family, it’s my dad. He grew up with fifteen brothers and sisters who all still live in the same town as they were born in. He is the most selfless person I’ve ever known. He’s the type of person to give gifts on his own birthday and everyone who knows him, loves him for his unbelievable generosity. However, some of us take it for granted. He is thirteen hundred miles away from me and he is still so involved in my life and sometimes I forget how thankful I should be. He calls me at least three times a day and most of the time I ignore it because I definitely take his care for granted. But he would never show if he was hurt by it. He just calls until I answer.

One of the times my dad’s anger got the best of him was at the lake (cottage). He accused me of something ridiculous. He said he tried to call the friend I was with and couldn’t get through. I tried to explain to him he had the wrong name. There was no talking to him when he was like that. It was useless. He never listened to anything I had to say. My mother tried to stick up for me this time and he abused her also. I couldn’t win. There was no rational thinking. Especially when it came to me for some reason. He became hostile and angry. Everything I did always had to be a problem.

Stereotypes are prevailing and oversimplified ideas of particular groups of people or certain things, and they have been around for a long time. Stereotypes are immensely detrimental to a myriad of people because they abject and discriminate them, as well as cause division and separation amongst certain communities. Breaking stereotypes is important due to the social climate that we are currently in today. Racism and discrimination are ubiquitous because people of colour are painted in a negative light due to the stereotypes they are given.

When I walked into the kitchen coming home from work I saw my dad sitting in the kitchen. I could tell by the look on his face and the way he was sitting that he was not in a good mood. He asked where I had been like I committed some sort of crime. I knew that he had found out what I had been doing. So I came clean and I told him that like my sister I had become a flapper. He immediately jumped up, knocking the chair over, and yelled “You don’t need to follow the footsteps of your sister! Make your own decisions and create your own life. Lula, times may be tough around here, but make a stand and live your own life.” I was so upset that I yelled back at him, which I have never done

I would have to say one thing that really pisses me off is how judgmental people are in todays world and how it creates so many different social classes . Not all, but some people like to act like they are psychics. They think they can tell who you are and what kind person you are ,what kind person you have been,and, what kind of person you're going to be just by passing you in the hallway. They can tell all this without even saying a single word to you. For example I was held back in the eighth grade because I failed my math class with flying colors so my parents thought it best that I hopefully mature and grow up a little before I got to high school. In doing, I left my comfort zone I had been with my class since I started their

The importance of becoming aware of your own biases and stereotypes as prepare for a career in the health care field is that as an individual you become more understanding and open minded towards the general need of a population and the need of others that might have grew up differently. This understanding of the differences and the ability of asking the right questions depending on the interaction will result a better observation when it comes to health care field, especially when it comes to determining a condition or finding a treatment for a patient. For example, as was told on the YouTube video “Overcoming Cultural Stereotypes” that African American men have a dangerous reaction that is similar to a stroke if they take Beta Blockers,