My Dad Was My Hero

What I learned and understood about my father through conversations with my older siblings was about the impact of the loss of my grandfather (my father’s father) at an early age, heavy responsibilities taken on at an early age (hardship of the Depression era) to help support his mother and younger siblings. This led him to a strong sense of responsibility and a deep faith. But it all made him seem emotionally unavailable. The hard times for black families dealing with racial discrimination and the horrors of Jim Crow led to strictness that he, in all likelihood, felt was necessary for the survival of his children. There simply was no place for lighthearted fun. This greater understanding led to a stronger connection with my father, and an appreciation for such things as his devotion to having taken care of his family, his integrity, compassion for those less fortunate than himself, and the commitment as a deacon and Sunday school teacher.

I was late for school, and my father had to walk me in to class so that my teacher would know the reason for my tardiness. My dad opened the door to my classroom, and there was a hush of silence. Everyone's eyes were fixed on my father and me. He told the teacher why I was late, gave me a kiss goodbye and left for work. As I sat down at my seat, all of my so-called friends called me names and teased me. The students teased me not because I was late, but because my father was black. They were too young to understand. All of this time, they thought that I was white, because I had fare skin like them, therefore I had to be white. Growing up having a white mother and a black father was tough. To

There are many times when a person comes into your life and changes it for the better. I was happened to be blessed to be born with that person that changed my life, my dad. He has always been there and guided me in the correct way. Just like in Sedaris “Me Talk Pretty One Day”, how something negative leads to a good outcome, my negative event resulted on how dads’ actions impacted my life in such a significant way. (635). My dad became a great example for me to look up to, by showing me how dependable, adaptive, and hardworking he truly is. My dad gave me the ambition, to continue my education, and become a dependable mother for my daughters and family.

There are five words I grew up hearing continuously spoken from the mouths of my parents “Don’t take things for granted.” Unlike what many of my black friends or just black people in general can say, I grew up with everything I could ever ask for and more. My parents don’t consider themselves wealthy; instead they prefer the word comfortable. My mother grew up in segregated schools, but she also grew up in desegregated schools, of which her experience she said wasn’t bad for her. In 5th grade when they first combined whites and blacks it was just her and this other black boy in class and the both of them together were mistaken for being white because of how light their skin was. My father on the other hand had it much worse than my mother segregated or not. The stories he speaks of still to this day

I still believe in certain things they taught me, but I’m able to learn and teach myself. It can be hard so show your parents new beliefs because they may not understand your perspective and tell you you’re wrong. Believing in what I want to helped me grow even more and learn about myself. I explored new things and found out what I like and don’t like. Finding where I stand with my faith was a step forward in my spirituality. I’m not a very religious person, but I’m still on my journey to finding myself and what really matters. My parents know that and they want me to be independent. No child wants to disappoint their parents with anything. Nadia’s parents still accepted her and was proud of her just like my parents. I saw this change in Nadia when she wanted to find what she believed in the most. I think this happens with a lot of people when they start to grow up and learn about who they are.

Being born black in the United States of America carries certain stereotypical ideas that automatically invade a person’s mind. At the top of the list they come from a single parent home, and more than likely have no relationship with their father if they even know who their father is. I was one of the fortunate few blacks in my community to be raised by my biological parents who were married long before I was born and remained married 48 years and were separated by the passing of my dad in 2014. My parents were born and raised under the harsh oppressive conditions of the Jim Crow Law southern state of Alabama that no doubt left undeniable mark on how they viewed the world; my dad was number seven of eleven children, many of them were adults when my dad was a child; two of his sisters were his teachers in school. My mom on the other hand was the third child of seventeen; four of my uncles are younger than me. I felt it imperative to mention their family order believing it to be indicative of the possible level of parenting skills that was imparted on them from their families of origin. Newly married, they moved to Los Angeles, California and a year and a half later I was born. Dad faced a different form of racism in Los Angeles than he faced in Alabama as a result he turned to alcohol to cope. My mom was a house with my first four years. Dad would drink and physically abuse my mother. I would jump on top of my mother while he would hit her and that would make him stop. My

I first learned about the world from my parents. Their viewpoints on people and their opinions about issues shaped my perceptions growing up. After interacting with people outside of my house, however, I began to doubt the explanations that my parents offered about issues like race and religion. For example, I distinctly remember my dad telling me to avoid befriending black people due to their “inherent aggressive behavior.” Then, I moved schools in third grade and started interacting with African American kids my age while also learning about the civil rights movement and segregation. With these new experiences and education, I realized that what my parents said to me was wrong and how our negative stereotypes of African Americans are harmful. I shared my findings with them, but they simply shrugged my comments off and kept their bigoted opinions firm despite everything I said. I think it was at that moment I realized

“Don’t say that! Your father isn’t racist, racist is lynching a black man, and killing jewish babies. Your father was only joking.”, responds my mother, who has a similar reaction every time one of us says the other was being racist. This was spurred when a black guy walked past our car at a red light. This story is a perfect example of the outside perspectives of discrimination.

“The real hero is the man who fights even though he is scared” (George S Patton). This quote can go with Roll of Thunder Hear my Cry what Papa did for the land, his family, and friends. If Papa did not get to these tasks then he probably would not be a big hero in the novel. Throughout the book I think that Papa could be considered a true hero in this novel for all the things he did. Papa was very generous, kind, and helpful to the family and he made the right decisions to be a true hero.

Inside the place we call home, surrounded by the 5 Great Lakes is the state I love called Michigan, and inside that state is my Michigan hero. My Michigan hero is my amazing dad. I admire my dad for everything he does. He is a wonderful person who is very kind and works hard.

I do, however, remember the first time I recognized that racism was not as far removed from me and my life as I had originally thought. I was ten years old, sitting in the car with my mother and my grandmother. We were driving around South Tucson, a predominantly Hispanic area of Tucson rampant with drug and gang-related violence. Out of the blue, my grandmother asked my mother where she thought was more dangerous: Raleigh or South Tucson. My mother confidently responded South Tucson, as it easily has a higher crime rate. After thinking about her answer, my grandmother asked if it “really could be safer when there are so many black people in Raleigh.” My grandmother was born in 1931 and had lived her whole life in the deep south, primarily North Carolina. I recognize that the circumstances under which she grew up greatly affected her views, but it was heartbreaking to realize that not only was racism so close to my life, but also that someone that I loved could be so prejudiced. In her later years, I could tell that she had not fully removed herself from her inherited views, but it was clear that she was attempting to remove herself from those

Have you ever had a hero in your life, someone that is always there for you when you need them? I did, I called him "my dad." My dad was the only person that could make me laugh when I was feeling down. My dad was that person who had so much love for his family. My dad was the person who I could call and he'd always pick up. My dad was the person who would drop everything just to help me. My dad was the biggest hero in my life and to this day, still is.

I have a lot of respect for my parents but it's only as I've got older I've learned to appreciate them. When I was younger I was oblivious to what they did for me. But I'm not the only one, it's called emotional immaturity and the blindness of youth. Growing older can bring a constant evaluation of the past based on the new insights and understandings of life as we grow in years. I respect my parents because they were so pure in their intentions. Part of that purity was their blindness to colour. I could have easily been another child writing this and that child being Black.

Heroes; something we all aspire to be, but easily recognize in others. Wait, how do we define what makes a hero, a hero? A hero is one who is kind, courageous, smart, determined and selfless. They often do what is better for the greater good and not themselves. This is seen in both Greek and Modern heroes, whether it is cutting off Medusa’s head or defeating the Riddler, they show these qualities in one way or another. We also see these qualities in parents, true everyday heroes. While they may not have super strength or the ability to fly, parents are the ultimate heroes in our lives, for they love for us without judgement and will always be there when we need them most. My father, William Romero, is a hero since it takes a true hero to

Throughout someone’s life they have a role model that they look up to and admire. Whether it be a super hero, a relative, or even a friend, they still look up to that individual. My role model comes in the form of a five foot five man, with short black hair, and a face just like mine. He’s my father and even though he’s no super hero, he’s still definitely the person I look up to the most. Whether it be supporting my dreams, needing someone to talk to, or needing a ride to a date, he’s always there for me. When it comes down to it he’s the person I admire most, my role model, father, mentor, and most importantly my friend.