My Family And Cultural Challenges

The term "Family of Origin" refers to the family that you grew up in - your parents and siblings, your original family. It may also include grandparents, other relatives, or other individuals who lived with you during part of your childhood. From our family we learn how to communicate, deal with our emotions, and get our needs met. We also learn many of our values and beliefs from our families. We often develop our sense of self in the context of our family of origin. Our family of origin or our "family culture" shapes who we are, determines the thoughts that we have about ourselves and provides us with examples of how to behave as well as what to expect from other people in our lives, especially how to behave and what to expect in our relationships- including our intimate relationships. (Family of origin)Our family culture may not be problematic in itself; however, many individuals seek professional support and guidance, to help come to terms with the past and the impact it has on us in the here and now. Alternately, individuals or couples may seek support to learn to deal more effectively with their family of origin today, or to prevent previous dysfunctional inter-generational patterns of behaviour from continuing, in order to provide a healthy marital and family environment. Adult awareness will help you not to repeat negative patterns modelled during the formative years. Once you become aware of the patterns of your family of origin, you can change them.

As a first-generation Mexican American, I am the product of two cultures merged into one. Like many immigrants, my parents left behind their homeland and came with just the clothes on their back. They were fish out of water when they first arrived in America. They came here with hopes of pursuing the American Dream but soon realized that they weren't going to be the ones to achieve the American Dream. They worked hard so that my younger brother and I could have a shot at it. So they’ve educated us and passed the Dream along to us. The hardships experienced by my parents have inspired me to take on my own challenges. Because of the sacrifices my parents made, I am where I am today. It's an unspoken responsibility that one day I will give back to those who gave me so much.

I grew up in a small town in the state of Michoacan, Mexico until a few weeks after my seventh birthday. In 2001, after six years since my father petitioned to have us come to the United States with him and finally he had received a letter from U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services that his request had been approved. Being of that age, I was my mother’s companion everywhere, however, all I could grasp from those conversations was that we were going to the United States. I don 't think any of us knew what this meant or to what extent this would change our lives, not even my parents whom I thought knew it all.

I was born and raised in the United States but my family was not born here, they came from an area south of Los Angeles, Mexico. In the border between the United States and Mexico, many immigrants have lost their lives attempting to achieve their promise dream. Many immigrants who cross the border pursue the American Dream. My family was one of the many immigrant families who attempted and fortunately succeeded in crossing over the border. My father’s family originated from Guadalajara, Jalisco, México. Many families just like mine risked their lives attempting to not only get to the border, but to cross it as well. My family did not differ much from the other immigrant families who sought to achieve economic stability and prosperity here

To the outside world, I appear to belong to the Traditional White Nuclear Family culture, but my family included co-cultures and subcultures that were rare in the suburban south.

My mother’s journey began in her hometown, Mexicali. She had heard that there were reliable coyotes who could get you to the US through “La Tierre de Nadie” (No Man’s Land). My mother spent the first few months of her pregnancy working any jobs she could find. Even as her belly grew larger and her feet got more bloated, she spent every hour of her day working. Her whole existence was devoted to escaping poverty. My mother was terrified that her due date would arrive before she was able to reach the States. She walked alongside the wall everyday on her way home, dreaming of the life she would make for her daughter. Finally, my mother had saved enough money to pay the coyote and traveled to Tijuana to find one to hire.

Growing up in a family with two older siblings always dawned on me. It was extremely difficult getting used to the fact that my brother, and sister would never have much in common with me due to the age difference between us. I recall so many different memories when I think back to my childhood, whether the memory involved my siblings, or my mother and father, those moments in time are still very vivid in my mind. My parents weren’t very prominent when it came to my childhood, and I completely understand due to the basic fact that they were hard working immigrant parents. They worked day and night to support my siblings and I. It was difficult starting a new life in a new country. My family had to build from the ground up to get to where we are now, and with hard work and perseverance, we’ve gotten extremely far.

The year is 1996 and I am a five year old girl in Mexico who cannot speak English and was apart from my mother for what seemed like an eternity. My Mom traveled to the United States to obtain work in the hopes of starting a new life and ultimately getting her children to eventually come as well. The following recounts what I remember from my long, scary, and transformative move from Mexico to the United States.

To acknowledge and understand the diversity of childrearing beliefs and practices among families, we must first acknowledge and understand our own beliefs and practices. Children are very diverse people who have been raised a specific way and must understand that they are vastly different from others. It is important that “helping” professionals show their students compassion, support, and understand the many different family and cultural backgrounds.

Prior to the early 2000’s, my father settled comfortably into his life working as an engineer in his hometown surrounded by loved ones and close friends. However, his selfless nature encouraged him to pursue an occupation outside of southwestern Asia in order to provide the best education for his children. His interest led us to America. On the hottest day of the summer, my father received the most amazing, but shocking news—my grandfather had already completed the immigration forms. The amazing part of this news stemmed from the fact that this one-in-a-lifetime opportunity allowed my father to seek an incredible schooling for his children. However, the shocking part of this news came to light when we first arrived to America.

I grew up in Cd. Juarez, in a house and an engraving business that my father inherited from his father, a man who landed in Juarez seeking opportunities that he later turned into a business. Given the fact that my father, just like my grandfather, didn’t have formal higher education, and still was able to run a successful business, has taught me the value of hard work and dedication. I also learned the basic concepts of team work, through my mother who would help my father with the business. The combination of these qualities allowed me and my siblings to grow up in a healthy environment until it all changed about a decade ago during the dark times of the border.

My family history is rather unclear and unexplored. I do know that my maternal grandmother was adopted. My paternal side is said to be Italian. I come from an English speaking family. The geographic range is also unexplored and limited to western Pennsylvania. I grew up in the small town of Nolo, Pennsylvania. I can recall moving from one house to another but within the same county. I did change school districts one time. I would consider this to be very stable. Currently, I reside in Indiana county where I grew up. I have been married for six years and have a two year old son that will soon be a big brother. My wife and I built a home within the same geographical location as our parents. My spouse was also raised in a stable nuclear style family structure.

As my father’s side was primarily farmers until his generation, my mother’s side of the family was comprised of primarily factory workers until her generation. Like my father’s family, Nancee’s family was mostly working class, but there was a tendency for them to become the working poor. Working in factories and on the railways provided work for my Great-Grandparents Bessie and Charles. But they made a vertical shift downward to the working poor when Charles decided that he would rather drink than work. Then Bessie began to do laundry and my Grandmother, Ramona, had to get a job working in a shoe factory in the evenings after school. Even

While looking upon my personal culture and my family’s culture in an attempt to find appropriate dishes for this assignment, it became apparent to me that I have no definite culture. Whereas I have lived in Canada my whole life, my family’s background has engaged me in varying cultures, though I have never felt truly attuned to one culture. On the other hand, my father is a first generation Canadian, his parents both from Scotland. Though aware of my Scottish origins and my grandparents’ migration to Canada, Scottish culture has never been explicitly celebrated amongst those in my family. Furthermore, my family previously migrated from Ireland during the Irish famine, resulting in Irish culture to also represented in my family’s culture. Variously, my mother’s side of the family has lived in Canada for many generations, but I do not consider myself as being authentically Canadian. Accordingly, throughout my childhood, I was never encouraged to celebrate an explicit culture. Furthermore, religion was never prominent in my life either, as my parents decided against baptizing any of my siblings and me, as per the family tradition, because they wished for us to have religious freedom. However, because of the rest of my family’s religion, as well as my background, my family has always celebrated Christian holidays, though I have never been to church for a reason other than a wedding. I find that without any cultural ties from my family’s history and practices, that the culture I

Since I was six years old, I lived my life in a constant fear of having to get deported back to my home country, Mexico. I lived in Mexico for six years in a small town called Chupicuaro. Sometimes I think back and ask myself how my life would have been if my parents had not decided to come to the U.S. Would I have been living in the streets? Would I have to start working at the age of eleven like many of my cousins did when they were that age? Would I have just received up to the middle school of education? All these thoughts are scary to even think about, and I cannot imagine how my family members manage to live through all that back in Mexico. Somehow they’ve achieved it and can stay happy. The spontaneous moments that my mom, my brother and I had to go through still run crawling through my head. The scariest moments of my life, as well as the most grateful moment in my life, awaited us. Never in a million years did I bare to think that a shift was to occur in our lives ten years later.I don’t remember much, but the things I do remember I imagine them precisely in my head. As I grew older, the images that once floated in my head started to fade away slowly like morning beauty fades away from her grievous day. As the years passed, I remembered less and less about the long journey we had to experience. But one thing I can never forget is the day we left that minty color house. In which then made our way to the municipal bus station.