My Birth Family : The Worst Day Of My Life

I was born in Northern, New York, about forty miles from the Canadian border in a wasteland of a town called Carthage, sixty miles from the nearest walmart. My mother, now Louise Percy, is ex-navy and worked for the federal government on Fort Drum until she retired ever since I was born. My father, Donald Bishop, was a beauty. He was in and out of prison all his life, including juvenile. He was imprisoned much through my baby-toddler stage and when he wasn’t imprisoned he jumped from construction job to construction job, drinking and smoking marijuana heavily until the day he died, last May 28th. I was born into a household with my mother, father, brother and half-sister for the first few years in my life. My half-sister skipped town after developing a heroin addiction and my father drove my mother psychologically insane until she ended up in a psych ward and we spent a few weeks with my grandmother (father’s mom) until she was released. My mother and father split up and my father never fought for custody nor paid child support. My mother had been a single mom for ten years

When I was 3 years old my mother and father got divorced. My father was abusive due to drugs and my mother couldn't handle it anymore. After my parents got divorced my sister Julie and I saw my father every other weekend. My father got more into drugs after the divorce and my sister and I didn’t get to see him much. When I was 7 years old my father got put in jail. Since my sister and I were only children we didn't understand why our father left. Our father was in and out of county jail during our life D.U.I’s, starting fights with people, hitting my mother. We didn’t know much about what our father did because he didn’t want us to know because we were too young. But my father was sentenced about 30 days in county jail. My sister and I missed

So to get into what happened I will start by saying that I was taken away from my mom when I was around six years old and was put into a foster care home where I would live until I was either old enough to leave on my own which would be 18 or until a family or person came and adopted me. At the time I didn’t

We arrived at some weird place that I didn't know of course. We got to the ghetto and they escorted us to our new home but I didn't like it because it was trashy and it was packed with families and I thought why would they move us here? What was the purpose of doing this? There was a piece of paper on every house even ours so I was wondering what it was when I got up to the paper it looked like a list of rules and at the bottom of the paper it said that if we were to not follow the rules then we would be killed and I believed them because they all had guns so I would just follow them from now on. My grandpa told me that we are moving again and I asked why he said he didn’t know but to just follow him and everything will be ok, and so I did. When we got there we were separated into different lines my grandpa was separated and my grandma went with me and she said it was going to be all right but I was still scared for my grandpa because I thought that they were going to kill him. Me and my grandma got to our “camp” at least that’s what they

Before I was born my parents had broken up and decided things between them would not work. When I was born my mother had custody of me, and my father was unsure that I was his child until they had gotten the results of the paternity test. My father fought for custody of me from the day he found out that I was his child because he knew he could provide a safer and more stable life for me than my mother. While living with my birth mother I was exposed to drugs and I was frequently left at strangers houses because my mother was either working or

History is defined as the study of the science of humanity in the past. It's a broad subject that spans over countless people groups throughout the years that the world has been around. Even before the times we have written word history was still being made, and it is still extremely important. We tend to forget that in our average day to day lives we are still making history. That all over the globe everyone is taking part in what might be in a history book someday.

While every immigrant story is unique to the places they’ve come from, their personal narratives, and their integration, many share commonalities within the American immigrant experience. My family is no exception to this fact as they highlight many of the theories of migration outlined in sociology. By examining my family’s story of immigration through these different lenses, I hope to gain a deeper understanding and appreciation for those who ultimately brought me into America.

As a child me and my cousians grew up together in the same house hold, my mother took custudy of my two baby cousians and my grand mother took my three girl cousians. my mom and grandmother raised us very close as more so brothers and sisters . Futher more this was the situcitian because my Aunite was out in the streets an drugs, and into prostitution. She had a husband and five beautiful children. She went to trade school and was working as a CNA/medtech she did not graduiate from high school. As my understanding my oldest Aunt introduce her to coke and she was doing that and meuhteving her family. Then one day she disapered just left the kids and her husband one day. My aunite was on and out of jail during our middle school years. One

For such a long time (probably from the beginning of the mankind), interacting with kids has been the biggest challenge for any parent out there. Things have become just worse these days thanks to technology. Kids now days tend to know a lot more about tech than the parents do. For instance, they know exactly how to ignore their parents and do whatever they want.

Me and my twin sister was all that was left after our other siblings were taken and placed into foster care . our father was in and out of jail a lot so it was up to my mother to take care of 2 twin girls . my father eventually went back to jail and my mother had a mental break down and left us on the porch of my grandmother kathy's house . me and ,my sister stayed there till we were about 1 year and some months old were we were being taken care of by my 2 uncles who were teenagers at the time . after a couple of months the state decided that the house we were staying in wa unfit and wanted us in foster care until my granny came to the rescue with the best lawyers and took us into her custody . we were living with my great grandmother at the ages of 2 as me and my sister grew things got more and more expensive and she worked an overnight job so as she went to work my big cousins looked after us till she was off we didn't have a car at the time so my granny was paying people to pick us up drop us off to my cousins house take her to work and was paying my cousin to watch us at work everyday my granny would be so tired after work but still made time for us and put us first she made sure we had something even if she didn't

Nana went to jail for child abuse for about three months before she was released to BHC in Idaho Falls, because the doctor deemed her mentally unstable. Within six months of the occasion, she was back at home. Health and welfare put me with a foster parent named Gina Mercer, who lives in Milo, Idaho. We had a very good relationship right up until Christmas in 2010. We had been sledding at Community Park in Idaho Falls, and it was time to go. She told me that I couldn’t go down the hill again so anger welled up inside me. At the back of the Durango, with my sled in the back, and Gina in front of me trying to calm me down, I kicked her in the shin. This lady came over and she was on her phone with the police. Then when the police showed up, they put me in handcuffs, in the back of the cruiser. Gina was then spoken to by the officer. All that was heard from me was crying and then “don’t take me to detention.” The police officer calmed me down and said that he wasn’t going to take me to jail; he said there was this place called the Gustafson House. I went, because there was no other choice besides

I was born to Keema Williams and Tracy Clark in Brooklyn, New York on February 12, 1997. I was given the name Lashaya Monay Clark. My father and Keema Williams didn’t always see eye to eye and by the age of 6 months, he was done with her. So he brought me down to South Carolina for about two months. After 2 months Keema Williams threaten to call the police, so my grandma met my dad and he gave her to me so he wouldn’t have to deal with Keema Williams. When my grandma brought me to Keema Williams she was mad at the fact my dad didn’t return. Before my first birthday she told my grandma to tell my dad to come and get me. My dad thought she was just trying to get him back up there but she assured him it wasn’t. She told him that she wasn’t ready to be responsible for another life. So he came and got me and she signed away her rights giving my dad full custody of me.

My parents have been divorced since I was a kid and they have their own separate lives and families. It was only me and my older brother until one day when I was 15 we learned that we were going to have a little sister. My Father and his girlfriend ended up having a girl, Alicia, named after my late Grandmother. They lived together for a short while until they ended up having many issues from financial to legal issues, like getting kicked out of their house, and broke up. They were uncertain about who would take Alicia and tried passing off a baby to their friends for short times then to other friends and then family. They did not want to give Alicia to her Grandmother because her and her Mother always fought about everything. But they finally allowed Alicia's grandparents to take her. She was only supposed to stay there for a short time but one thing led to another and now her parents have supervised visits. They have separate times and can only see Alicia on Sundays. Her grandparents, Deborah and John, have taken care of her for 4 years now by giving her everything she needs.

The hardest time in a person's life is often following the death of a close family member. Death is hard, losing someone you love and see on a daily basis causes great grief and sorrow. For me that special person I lost was my Dad. My father died when I was twelve and it was no doubt the hardest time of my life. Our relationship was indescribable I was his little buddy and we went absolutely everywhere together, and when he died it was like he just disappeared from my life forever. As a young boy you really do not know how to react to such a terrible situation. Neil Ibrahim a father of four dies young and it's just you and your brother left to carry the family name. Throughout the grieving process one learns who really cares about his or hers well being and the upbringing of their children without a father, losing your father makes you more responsible and a more humble person because you are all they left behind.

Devastated, I ran to my room gushing my eyes out. All these emotions going through my head of how my life would be without my parents in the same room or even house. From what I remember it all started about mid-June, the weeks before that were crucial. My parents would always argue over how to deal with a situation between me and my brother, Skyler. They hardly spoke to one another, but when they did they would just start bickering. I remember, one night after dinner they both went into ''their'' room with the door locked yelling at one another. Skyler and I didn’t know what to do, so we went downstairs and tried to figure out what was going to happen. With a scared tone I asked if mom and dad were going to get a divorce?" He answered back '' No, they love each other, they wouldn’t do that to us." That following night, was a school night everything was quiet except for my crying. I couldn’t sleep; all I was thinking about how it's going to affect my family.