My dad used to tell me stories about how kids picked on him when he was younger and how they told him that we wasn’t going to get anywhere in life but little did they know that he would be working with NASA on their space capsule recovery project because he wa a Master Diver in the Navy. My dad would be called words like stupid and dumb, he won’t admit it how but I think he started to believe it himself. He’s dyslexic and so am I. The one thing I truly admire about my dad is that he never let it stop him from doing what he wants to do and being what he wants to be. I was in first grade when my teacher teacher started noticing signs of me being “slower” than other kids. She had a meeting with my parents and they ended up putting
The most important thing my father told me was that working in the same field of work like him wasn’t worth it, my father was able to open my eyes and see that working a job like his for the rest of my life was something I didn’t
While this resonated with me, he never knew that my mother had told me the same thing a week prior. I found that I tried too hard to be like my brother, the child that my parents so clearly favored. He was always able to make them laugh, never exhibiting the attitude or rudeness that I often found myself compared
As a child, I thought my parents were invincible. I grew up believing they were superheroes who had the ability to whisk away all my problems. Unfortunately, when I was 15-years-old, my father was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. The hardest part about his diagnosis was that his sister had been diagnosed with MS a couple years before and we had seen her health deteriorate so quickly that she was already wheelchair bound. During this time my family was scared. The little information we knew about MS did not seem hopefully and we were worried about what the future would hold for our family. Lucky, we were blessed with a great neurologist who eased the insecurity we felt and gave my father the strength to be optimistic about his diagnosis.
Nautilus elementary, 5th grade. Probably the grade that every kid either had crazy times and bad experiences. At this time, I was not the greatest at reading. Reading was at the bottom of my list because I thought it was pointless. Avoiding all the reading assignments that my crazy teacher gave us to complete. She was ridiculous! Made us read a book a week and then test the book the following week. This test was called an a.r test, this test not only showed that we understood and read the book but it also calculated our reading level. Being at a grade and half lower reading level was not the greatest. Always failing all the test and my grade dropping lower and lower didn’t make my look like a good kid. A couple of months went by and I
Growing up my dad didn't have the best childhood. Even with a rough childhood my dad still succeeded in life. He got a good job and started a family. When ever we ask him why he sacrifices so much for us he simply says,"I want to give you a better life than I had". My dad has given me the best life I could have ever asked for.
It was 8th grade, and I was almost a highschooler. Almost a highschooler! And I couldn’t believe I was being treated like a toddler still learning to walk.
My dad thanked Nor Din for everything that he did to help him one last time. My dad packed his stuff and left for college. His parents were so proud of him. My dad went to college and Nor Din continued his job as a science professor. He will ever forget those days. When my dad thanked Nor Din he said “Thank you Nor Din for everything that you did to help me.” My dad finally arrived at Hope College in Michigan. My dad graduated from Hope College and went on to get a PhD in Chemistry from Boston College. He is a great scientist who works at DOW Chemical. My dad learned that everyone needs a little help every once in
In elementary I had terrible handwriting and spelling, I got lectured about it frequently. My dad would say "you should work on your handwriting it 's going to count when you go to jr. high and high school", little did he know that it was the age of the computers and would rarely ever have to a hand write a paper.
The alarm clock rang three consecutive times, as the young man remained in bed, paying no attention to the alarm, and continued to lie asleep. His first class already starting, he decides not to attend, but instead dozes off wasting the day. This was just another typical day for my father back then. As a teen my dad always skipped out on classes whenever he got the chance to. He was the type to always fool around, and never took school seriously. At the age of 12 he basically raised himself, ever since his parents gave him up for adoption. Always moving from family to family, and having to interchange schools several times, he grew tired and became irritable to the point where he no longer had interest for an education.
It was 2005 and I had started my first year of pre-k. I was nervous, not because of school but because of my crooked pinkies. I was terrified that kids would laugh at me for having crooked pinkies. So I would always hide them in school, restaurants, and in public. My parents and sister always told no one would care,but that never help especially since my brother always made fun of them.
I was always an underachiever. Lectures about work ethic and my future were commonplace with my parents, and teachers. I
5th grade, middle school at Riverdale. This is when I started taking the SRI, a reading comprehension test. Once my class completed the test we all compared our scores and I remember mine being lower than the rest of my classmates. It was my first time taking it so I gave myself the benefit of the doubt, thinking next time I’ll be right up there with my classmates. A few weeks later we took it again. Once again we shared our results and my score was still lower than theirs. This time I told myself that I’d never be at the same level as my classmates.
Despite my parent’s challenges, they were still able to raise me with love and care and surrounded me in an environment where I
From a very early age my Dad had taught me resilience. I didn’t even know what that word was as a little girl, but I knew exactly what it meant. Never giving up. The way your character grows, the different perspective you see things, and the content feeling of accomplishment. My Dad inspires me to go above and beyond expectations, and has always told me to set a goal and go for it. I give him a lot of credit for my academic, and athletic achievements due to him always displaying his hard work ethic, and his involvement in my life.
I began to rebel and grades were no longer as important to me as they were to my father. My grades slipped to a C average, and that was not good enough. Instead of getting upset, my father encouraged me to apply myself. It took a couple of years, but he made me realize the importance of school, and that I only had one shot at doing it right. I graduated high school in the top ten percent of my class, thanks to my father.