My First And The Last Child Of My Parents

The thought of starting sixth grade terrified me. I didn't have any friends or someone to talk to. I sat alone every day at lunch. Sometimes people would try to talk to me and sit by me, but I always felt uneasy and out of place, so I just smiled and sat through it, waiting for the bell to ring. I wasn't interested in what they were talking about: most of their conversations were comprised of gossip and which teachers they hated. Occasionally I would skip lunch altogether and go sit in the library. My grades were all A's, although I never raised my hand in class-even though I usually knew the answers-because I didn't want to speak out loud in front of thirty other kids. I knew it was unhealthy behavior, but I didn't know what to do.

During the time that I would quietly sit in a classroom, or in a centrum by myself I would question why no one saw what I did in the mirror whenever I looked at myself. A youthful young man is what I saw from the very beginning, one that was intelligent, fit, determined, and honest. However, no one saw what I did instead they criticized how insane I was for not seeing the physical me. No matter how many times I tried to push the negativity out of my mind things only got worse from then on. Depression and anxiety settled in along with a daily dose of bullying from students when I went to school. The physical harassment got worse, I recall days I wanted to give up because I wanted them to feel the pain they dealt me, but refused to hurt them instead I would bottle up my

She lost her parents at a young age, so her grandparents struggled to take care of her and her brothers. Soon after her sixtieth birthday, my mom married my father, and they both welcomed me two years later. I was born in September 1999; unfortunately, five months after my birth, my father died in the hands of a stranger from a gunshot to the head. Although both my grandmother and mother were devastated by his passing, they both decided to once again fight for our future and raise me.

Since coming to America, I have moved to an ample amount of places because my father’s job concerns. I changed school frequently and in each new school I was never greeted with a warm welcome. With one glance my classmates saw I was different from them. I was often bullied and teased because of my racial difference from my classmates, from these experiences I became a quiet and docile girl. This way I thought I would not get in anyone’s way. I had closed up in the world in front of me; I never expressed my own opinions and always agreed with the majority. However secretly inside of me, I was frustrated not being able to express myself and yet I was unable to change. I craved to be what I was in the inside to be on the outside. Still by

I was very shy and awkward during my adolescent years. A cringe-worthy yet endearing moment of reflection of suppressed memories. I was the fourth child out of five, to two immigrant parents. We were a low income family with no budget for vacations or expensive school trips. Socially I was not accepted. I was always the outlier. Subsequently, I was bullied and it impaired my childhood for quite sometime. I felt as if I was sentenced to social death that I just could not replevy before the end of adolescent years. Other students taunted and jeered at me habitually; even with uncontrollable factors. I specifically remember my Haitian heritage being one of the domineering methods of my torture. I recall that being subjected

On the 23rd of January in the year 2003, at around 1:00 in the afternoon at Kaiser Permanente San Francisco, I was born into the world. My parents, Frederick Torres Nangca and Rowena Aldana Nangca, and I first settled in my grandparent’s studio as a child. The space was small but open for the most part. From what I remember, the wall that was on the same side as the door had a drawer beneath the television where they kept most of their belongings. Just across from that was a blue couch that they had pushed up against the ten windowed wall. Next to the couch was a smaller beige dresser that held my grandfather’s extra clothes along with a few of my grandmother’s accessories. My grandmother and grandfather often held novenas and parties in honor of God.

When I was seven years old, my mother died of a drug overdose and my father went to prison for nine months. I always lived with my grandma and grandpa and they pushed me to excel in everything I did. They pushed me because they knew I began to comprehend that I was living in a drug filled house and community. They wanted more for me. When I was nine years old, my dad also died of a drug overdose. I was devastated. I felt like an orphan and I felt like an outcast. From then on, people in my community had awful opinions about myself, as well as my family. I made a pact that I was going to push past everyone's preconceived expectations for me and be the absolute best version of myself. As the years went on, I started to revolve my life around

During my younger years I was very insecure about myself and unsociable. In part, this was probably due to being at home by myself for numerous years while my Mom took the night shift at HyVee. In fact, I was bullied because I was different from the general population in Blue Springs, Missouri. I didn’t have the newest gadget nor was I able to create a connection with my peers. Due to my

As a young child, I was timid towards participating in class activities, and I would not seek help if I was struggling because I was terrified of judgement from both my teacher and my peers. I was so insecure about myself, that I became obsessed with the idea that I was obligated to complete any task anyone gave me because I was a burden on them and their life. I would go out of my way to help someone on their homework to my own grade’s deficit, or I would knowingly place myself into the middle of social drama I was not involved in simply because I could not say no. This eventually resulted in me becoming both emotionally and physically exasperated. I began to isolate myself from both friends and family. This way, I could not be held accountable for

Unlike many students, my first year of schooling was undertaken at home, rather than amongst my peers. My subsequent years of schooling were spent in a normal classroom environment; however, I often felt that this year at home, which was characterized by much less interaction with peers than I would have had if I was enrolled in traditional schooling, had left me at a social disadvantage, or slightly behind other children in terms of my level of socialization. I was much shyer than the other children who had already developed groups, friendships, who were much more adept at interacting amongst each other, and generally seemed more outgoing than myself. I often felt like an outsider, with feelings of self-consciousness and a lack of

As a seventh grader, I was extremely timid towards participating in class discussions or activities, and I would never seek help due to my incapacitating fear of judgement. I worried my teachers and peers would view me as unintelligent or incapable because I did not understand the information we were learning. This fear of judgement eventually transferred into my social life, and I became submissive and felt inclined to do whatever my peers instructed me to. For example, I would willingly help someone with a project or homework despite the fact that my own grades may suffer by doing so. This willingness to place the needs and wellbeing of my peers above my own ultimately led me to emotional and physical exasperation. I began to isolate myself

When I was 16 years old, I was going through some tough times I got kicked out of my boarding schools and started falling into deep depression.I was always focusing on other people’s imperfections, but I never really looked at mine.I struggled with having a true

This caused me to always feel that I was being judged and I never looked at what needed to do for myself. In my My whole life, I felt as if I was in a competition with everyone. It affected me emotionally and physically. I felt as if I was not able enough or intelligent enough. Someone who made me realize that I was special was my dad. He simply told me everyday that I was able and I was special . My dad guiding me through my tough time yet me know that I was not alone. Being preoccupied with my lack of self confidence also affected my

Growing up I struggled to complete simple tasks such as approaching people when I needed help, being so afraid of everything was difficult. I was anxious of what others might think of me and what they might say to me. I was a normal child on the outside but on the inside I was fighting a whole new battle with myself to find my voice and to

In early 1977, the world as I knew it was slowly dissolving. My beloved grandfather became gravely ill, and transgressed to the next realm in August of 1981. This was a very dark difficult period for my family. The happiest days of my life were spent with my grandparents. It became extremely difficult to concentrate and control my emotions during this period. On June 6, 1984, the joy of my life was birthed into this world, my son. His birth signaled a new journey for me, setting a solid foundation for the rest of my life. I was a newly minted wife and mother with different responsibilities for the care and lives of two other people. This foundation helped me to deal with the blow of my grandmother transgressing from brain cancer less than one month after the birth of my son. My