Kingston's Family Story

My best friend Leah Nepomuceno is one of the strongest people I know, especially when it comes to family. Family to her is everything and she has done all she can to try and keep hers together as a whole. We were in sixth grade swinging on the swings outside at recess, whispering and giggling about our usual gossip when she received news from one of our teachers that we knew was serious by the look on her face and fear in her voice. She came up to us and told her she needed to go the office and that she was being dismissed, she gave me permission to walk with her inside. On the short but long felt walk inside Leah's heart was pounding, her hands were sweating, and her eyes were slowly filling with tears. Her mom was

In the fall of 2012, my mother almost succumbed to her illness. I had just begun my freshman year of high school midst angry conversations between my parents and the threat of separation. It would seem as if they bickered about the most irrelevant things, almost as if they had no other reason to fight other than the fight itself. Those moments were excruciatingly lonely, my father worked until the dead of night and my mother would come home exhausted from treatment. I now know that there was no one who felt more unvalued than my mother. I wish I had the ability to iron away this blunder that destiny had fabricated, however foolish this desire is.

Nevertheless, it was challenging for a single mother to raise three kids without financial and emotional support. At that time my mother was a housekeeper, and she and my father divorced when I was six-years old. She is a tenacious women. Moreover, she is supportive, hardworking and possesses a magnificent sense of humor. While I was in school, my mother worked long hours and by the time I arrived home she barely had energy to cook dinner, or check out my academic progress. However, even when she was mentally and physically exhausted, she always cooked for me and my

Here the author points out that the Grandmother “lurches from one strategy to another” (9) in an attempt to save herself. Almost as though the death of her family does not affect her, she exhausts all of her “manipulative techniques” (9) and ruses until her ultimate demise. While this argument may seem harsh, it is helpful because it allows students to see multiple layers of the character. It offers an opinion that students may not have been exposed to, and in the process, illuminates a more well-rounded character. In a sense, it pulls back the mask she carefully creates to reveal new aspects of her, ultimately making her a more interesting character to study.

I grew up watching my mother strive to give me a better life and become a better person. Amongst great difficulty, she decided to finish school and attend university. Her hard work and determination have marked and defined my life. Every day she had to work, then go to university and later take care of me. She excelled in every aspect of her life, teaching me that the impossible is overcome through hard work and

I was raised in a close-knit family household, which has left me with great memories and many stories, but I have also had first hand experience the troublesome transition of Mexican immigrant parents to America. However, the trajectory my of success my parents have had without any resources has encouraged and impacted me greatly to go out and help those in need, because everyone has the potential of greatness. Even though I didn't always have the dolls, clothes, home, or shoes I wanted, I was too busy to mind, because school academics and dance have been a passion of mine since I was smaller; it fills my heart with joy every time I am part of these things. Besides, having two brothers made everyday something special, and I still love taking

Both my parents are high school teachers so my house is always filled with stacks of lesson plans, school supplies, and the quick wit that only comes from being around teenagers twenty-four-seven. Being both supportive teachers and amazing parents, my mom and dad have consistently inspired me to work my very hardest and to keep learning no mater what. They also are my biggest cheerleaders whether I am last in the race at cross country, preforming my best on stage, kicking butt and taking name in karate, or getting my butt kicked trying to bathe an angry bull. Next is my sister, who has been my Player 2 in this wacky game we call life and rivals my parents in encouraging me. Even though each of my family members plays a different role in my life, when they are together supporting me I can preform at my very best. The best example of their support is when I tested for my black belt. For the test I fought for nearly an hour-and-a-half against multiple well-trained fighters, without hardly any breaks. Even though I had been training for years, I would have not been able to keep fighting if my family hadn’t been there giving me water and telling me to keep going and try harder. This is one example out of many of how my family has been there for me through it all, telling that I am above and not beneath and proving that

Personal Statement Fourteen and homeless is where I found myself four years ago. My mother (a hard working single parent of two.) set sights for a better living situation in the big apple. Unfortunately with one suitcase, no money and two young children the only choice for my mother was to seek refuge in a homeless shelter. Contrary to popular belief, that growing up homeless could potentially harm a child, it has had a positive impact on my life while being a reminder of the humble beginnings I came from. Growing up homeless assisted in building my character, a blood thirsty determination to achieve, and self awareness.

A few months into the school year I got some news from my parents that referred to my grandmother. She had an accident in her home that put her in critical condition. At this point my father rose to the occasion and began to watch after my grandmother, his mom. Taking care of my grandmother was not an easy task. She was constantly being moved in-between nursing homes and hospitals. She continuously had unstable vitamin levels and her body and was just in very poor physical condition. My father held on though, he was always by her side making sure she was okay. While my grandmother won’t ever fully recover, she is doing much better. It’s because of my father that she’s still alive today. I lost more of my innocence through all this but at the same time I learned that when things get bad, family takes care of one

In my life there have been many personal challenges I've had to deal with. Many of these challenges circulate around my movement with my mother as we've been all over the United States as her job wasn't as stable five years ago as it has become recently. We lived in Iowa for four years, 1,000 miles away from my father and the house I grew up in. We became two separate households. I knew, most of all, it would be a strain on my parents, who would only get to see each other on holidays or whenever they could scrounge up enough money for the journey.

Unexpectedly, my father called and with an unsteady voice explained, “I had to take your mother to the emergency room, and she is now being admitted to the hospital.” At age 13, this phone call began the most dreadful time of my life. Prior to this event, I was exceedingly dependent on my parents and even struggled with separating from them. In the beginning of my mother’s hospital stay, my familymy parents and two, younger sisters were constantly divided. My father stayed in the hospital with my mother, while my sisters and I would switch between caring family members and friends. Eventually I grew tired of different environments and decided that staying home alone was the far better option. As a result, I appreciate independence and know how to solely maintain a home.

I am not like other people where I’ve had difficulties with my family but I have had one major struggle that has impacted my life. It did not affect me for just one summer it will be affecting me for the rest of my life. The exceptional hardship I have had was when I broke my leg in five places and had to overcome the difficulties of getting better. It was such a difficult experience because it affected my love of playing basketball. However, that experience led me on my path in pursuing a career in Sports Medicine. Breaking my leg was awful but it helped me think about what I wanted to study when I go into college.

Growing up my family was always very close. We were always together; whether it was going to church or going to the ball field. My mother raised me as a single mother. She would work a lot of hours at work and my grandparents would watch me. They would take me to school and ball practices. Where sometimes my mom could not make it, she would always tell my grandparents to tell me something

She is one of the strongest people that I know which is why finding her crying one gloomy morning shook me greatly. Her sorrow was tangible throughout the whole house. I can remember that even the sky was crying. Gray light filtered in through the water-streaked windows. When I asked her what was wrong she told me that it was the anniversary of her brother’s death. This was the first one after her mother had died. She recounted some of her favorite memories of them both with a smile on her face even though she was tearful. It didn’t occur to me until many years later that all the family that she had grown up with was gone. I remember wishing that I could help her but I think that the best way for me to have comforted her was to just be there for her and to listen so that is what I did. Even though I can only imagine what my mother must have felt, I can assume that it would have been debilitating for some people and yet my mother was able to get up again every morning and go to work and go on with her life. Even now, this event only reinforced my high thoughts of my mother because she is only one example of how people are always stronger than we think and how we, ourselves, are stronger than we think. “With a heart for any fate,/ Still achieving, still pursuing,” (Longfellow, L. 10, L.

I grew up in a low-income, single-parent family on the far south-side of Chicago. My sister and her family also lived with us. They needed a place to stay while they looked for a more affordable house. One thing my family doesn't do is turn our backs on each other. Sociologists who claim to be experts on non-white families have their own words for this type of situation. They derogatorily label this as a poverty-stricken, Black matriarchal extended family who lives in the ghetto. Yet all in all, we were happy because we helped each other. We were not the type of family who wondered what the next meal would be. We always knew we would have food on the table, but the type of food was a different story.