My Parents And My Family

One day my dad called me out to the garage, somehow I knew exactly what he wanted. My older brother surprisingly graduated and was off to start his life in the marine corps, which meant it was my turn to step up and be my dad’s helper. My dad asked, “ Wyatt, can you assist me?” He then told me what we were going to be doing. He said, “ I’m going to have you cutting pieces of wood for the frame of the garage.” We were adding a lean to on the garage. After he showed me how we were started, the task was easy: he offered me a template board that he had already cut the angle out on and I just had to line the board up with the new ones, trace along the edge, then cut it with a circular saw.

So it all began one day when I wanted a scooter, me and my dad went to Walmart to get a scooter. We got the scooter and went back home, once we were at my house my dad said he will let me ride it in a little bit because he had to go to the store. He went to best buy to get something for the tv because we needed a cable to connect it to my x box. Once my dad got back he took care of me. My uncle came home and parked his truck in the drive-way.

I grabbed the man a blanket and a glass of water because he looked a little pale. The man had thanked me, but then had said something a little strange. He asked me what time my parents go to work and I go to school.

He agreed openly. He explained that my job was to help him take apart and find a problem in the engine. The engine belonging to a lime green 1970 Plymouth Barracuda coupe. As I removed separately the engine my hands became covered in a mixture of oil and grease. Out of curiosity, I wondered how do engines worked, my father pointed out each of the parts that made up the engine, and in details explained how they worked. I removed various parts the engine such as the carburetor, heads, cylinders, and pistons. Then together my father and I finally have taken apart the greasy engine, both of us had found the problem. Together we noticed there was a long crack at the base of one of the pistons. Because of this my father had told me we needed to buy a first-hand set of pistons and place them back into the engine. The following day my Dad had bought an original set of pistons. Ready to be a place he lined up the pistons in order. He offered me a box of dissimilar sized piston rings, with supervision, he directed me where each ring

Dad, I remembered the first time I met you; I was very young and asked to visit with Debi. You were very kind to me and asked about my family. I remembered what a commanding voice you had. Shortly after that, I began visiting more often; not for Debi, but for Donny. Years passed and Don and I were married and had children, you were there to help and advise us when we needed it.

My first time being behind the wheel wasn’t such a good idea. It was in a parking lot by montrose and I almost ran the car into the grass where the trees were. I thought it would’ve been easy because I would always look at my dad drive. When this happened, my dad got mad and started screaming at me. I really got upset because it was my first time driving a car and he couldn’t have patience for it. Once he started screaming at me, I just got out the car and went to the back side of it. Afterwards, my dad kept teaching my brother on how to drive.

Ever since preschool I knew there was something different about me, more specifically my immediate family. I noticed whenever I had a playdate with a friend, there was an older boy as well as older and younger kids in addition to my friend’s mom and her. I later learned those people were her dad and siblings; I had neither.

When my mom is mad or I don’t do what she tells me to do she tells me that I am “ just like my father”. I assumed she said that because she was mad at me. After finding out that genetics can be 40% to 60% heritable. I realized I was a my father’s daughter; that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

This is the first time in my life that I have ever felt so out of place. I looked at my parents and realized I did not share a single trait with them. At that moment time was frozen. My parents were sitting right in front of me, talking to me, yet I could not hear what they were saying. My biology class was learning about genes, so I thought maybe I was getting in my head. I knew it was possible to get these traits from family members from the past, but once I thought about it I didn’t really look like anyone in the family. I had no idea why I had never noticed this before. My father, Robert Downs, is a tall, muscular, athletic man, with black hair and blue eyes who deals with problems head on. My mother, Susan Downs, is also tall like my father,

I always knew I was different from my family. I have green eyes while they have brown. I have curly dark hair while they have straight light hair. I just didn’t fit in with my sister and mom. I would always ask my mom why I was so different and didn’t look like them, but she would just say “You got your grandmas looks, be thankful for that she was gorgeous.” I had never seen a picture of grandma or met her because she died before I was born. I always felt there was more she wasn’t telling me but never prodded. When I turned 18 I decided to take matters into my own hands and go to the court house to look at my birth certificate. I knew if I told mom she’d be hurt, so I went in secret saying I was going to the library to read. I had finally arrived to the court house in town center after an hour walk.

Freedom to life, liberty, and the right to pursue happiness. These are the things that people came looking for in America. Some lost their lives trying to achieve their goals in the new world. But some continued to prosper and live on. These people are the ones I call family. Through thick and through thin, rain or shine, they will be there to fight by your side. Family is what I consider home, so looking into the past about how my home came to be, I can learn many things about how I am where I am now.

I was born and grew up in Ethiopia, moving to America three years ago. Ethiopia is one of the traditional country where most of the population and the economy rely on agriculture. I was born in small rural town called Akaki in the southern part of Addis Ababa City. My family depends on agriculture, my parents grow crops like teff, barley, hard wheat and sorghum, which is the common ingredients for our day to day meal. The production of these crops takes place in traditional farming. I am the youngest kid in my family, that means I am free from any responsibilities in my culture my older siblings do most of the things in our family. I spent most of the time playing with my friends. Everyone in my family loves me. If something happens with in our family, the oldest one are accountable and responsible, even I am a young and grown guy, this thing makes me lazy and spoiled person.

When living with both my parents at my childhood home, I attended Abraham Lincoln – Washington Elementary until the fourth grade. I stared going to pre-school when I was 3 years old and then transitioned into Kindergarten, where I attended Abraham Lincoln. The school included grade levels from Kindergarten to eight grade. I loved going to school and would have my mother prepare my lunch box early in the morning before walking me to school. We only lived three blocks from school, which was very convenient for my mother and baby sister. My mother always walked me to class, but my father would literally walk me to the corner of the street, which was two houses away from where we lived and would watch me take the three block walk to school alone. My mother would mostly take me to class, but on days she wasn’t feeling well, she would have my father take me. However, I’m not sure why he would let me walk alone because if my mother knew, she would have a panic attack. I was eager to go to school and play with my friends at recess. Although, I liked to learn new things, I mostly liked going to school to socialize with people my own age. I’ve always had a fascination for art and numbers, which is probably why I’m artistically gifted and creative. My favorite subjects were P.E., art and math. I received a lot of certificates for student of the month during my elementary years and was on the honor role and principles list numerous times. Before I was able to go into fourth grade, I was

I have a brother who is 17 and there are only two of us and that is okay with me (only one would be better). My brother is a big pain in my gluteus Maximus but I still love him no matter what. My brother always tries to protect me from boys and it sometimes gets annoying because I actually like those boys but I know he has good intentions. My brother’s name is T.J. and he is a senior in high school and is going on to college at Mizzou in Missouri to play Division 1 baseball in the SEC (south east conference).

During the summer of 2008, my family and I took a trip to Rome. I had anticipated this for most of that year, and I was very excited when the day finally arrived to leave. Summer break was already a month in, and I had been packing for the last few days. The flight was almost nine hours, and most of the flight I slept. When we arrived in Italy, we went to our hotel and for the next few days, we went to many places like the, Colosseum and the Pantheon. We also went to many restaurants that reflected the Italian culture. I recall tasting a margarita, and it being some of the best pizza I 've had, it was thin and delicious. A few days into the trip, my parents decided to take us to the Sistine Chapel. At the time I had minimal knowledge of world history, so I did not understand what this place was, but once we arrived, I was amazed by its size , the beauty of the painting and I when I realize how old it was, I found it very interesting. We decided to take a tour, along with a tour guide, telling our group information along the way. Although we were in a group, there was a mass of other people, as well as many other tours going on. We would go to many rooms, some people would stay in a room, while others would move on. There was so much to see, and since there was art on the ceiling, my eyes were mostly locked above me. In a particular room, I had gone ahead, while my parents had stayed. I thought I had remembered what room they were, and how to get there from where I was, but I