Personal Narrative: A Letter To My Daughter

My interviewee is a second generation immigrant with one parent who was born in El Salvador and the other who has Mexican roots but was born in the United States. For the purposes of confidentiality my interviewee will be addressed as Ana from here on out. In this interview paper I will discuss the experiences that Ana faced growing up in a tri-racial household. I will also evaluate her experiences regarding assimilation to the lectures and reading assigned through out this course.

I have for months been in apprehension that David would volunteer. Yet, joining the Army will be a terrible trial to me. He joined the Washington County Company commanded by Capt.Willet. They are now at Camp Cummings, the Fair ground. David sold his Pistol, got $25 for it, paid some of his little debts and we are preparing shirts with crochet work. He is very serious and deliberate about it, and the poor boy, he will be more so as the hardships thicken upon him. He was anxious to be called in.

I cannot believe it took one person to destroy me, one person to discard all of my trust for anyone. One person to make me forget who my real friends were. One person to banish me to the deepest parts of my mind. One person to make me think that I’m not worthy of anything. One person to be so ignorant as to make me think it was all my fault. That one person, under that pretty little face is called Ashley Melgar. From here on out we’ll call her “Little A.” Little A was a curious tale of my not so great past. Boyfriend and all, I still continued to fall for her lies and manipulation. My mind was clouded and there was no way to clear my vision. In my head she was a damaged soul with a fucked up boyfriend; in reality she was a fucked up soul with

I could feel the breeze of the cold air on me coming from the open window. I could hear the sound of all of the birds tweeting away. It was silent and peaceful. I was staring at the mirror, at my reflection. I sat down looked at the paper, “Oh my gosh! Mom! Dad! Guess what? The Lance children's hospital is looking for volunteers!” I shouted to my parents when I saw the ad in the paper. The silence instantly disappeared. I have always wanted to work at the hospital when I grow up so I was so excited when I saw that they were looking for volunteers. Everything we have seen in the past, doesn’t let a sixth-grade girl who has had no experience in a hospital volunteer. I am very good with kids. I love to babysit and take care of my 2-year-old sister. I am always looking for ways to help out. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

I picked to go along with her story as well as not tell her the truth about her parents dying because I did not have the heart to tell her that her parents died a long time ago. A lot of the other caregivers would do the samething. If I were to follow fidelity and tell her that her parents were dead, her sister died a long time ago and that she was living in a memory care in Dallas she would be even more upset. By going along with what she was saying and not correcting her, the situation would be resolved a lot quicker than if we were to tell her that her parents were dead and she lives in a care community. Not telling them the truth, when they will forget that they asked is a lot easier than telling them.

Supposed I was to actually manage “The Children Are Our Future,” I would need to put the skills I have now that would help me in the Human Services profession to use, but I would also need to develop more skills. The set of skills I have now that would help me manage the created program from earlier in this essay, is that I am a very good observer. In this field of work being a good observer is very important because children will tell you something but their body language will say otherwise, so you would have to pay attention to what they say and how they react when they say certain things. Another skill I have is that I am very empathetic, and dealing with children who will most likely been through a lot, I will have to use that ability to

I believe, without my mother's independence and the way she raised me, I would not be applying to Queens today. I have had my share of ups although I've also had plenty of downs. I have two older sisters and a younger brother. My oldest sister chose a different path when she had the opportunity to choose a more successful path. She moved out at the age of 16 to flew across the country to live off of my grandpa's income. She dropped out of college, barely a semester in, with student loan debt. She could have been a multi-sport collegiate athlete on scholarship. I look at her and see what could happen if I don't make the right choices and take advantage of my opportunities. My second oldest sister made most of the right choices, and I look at her and see how successful I could become.

Our 9-year-old daughter's third soccer game in her life was this afternoon...all smiles and heart, learning as she goes. Although at the end, the score was a respectable 3-6 loss, the opposing team had a player that could easily play kiddie pro compared to all of the kids on the field; frequently stealing the ball at one end of the field and dribbling it down the entire length to the other end...solo, then shooting on goal..easily 8-10 times in the two quarters in which she played.

This letter of support is concerning my wife, Shantei Hinton, in my mother-in-law obtaining her US citizenship. I really enjoyed the happiness of my wife when her mother visited our home during ESTA Travel Visa. My mother-in-law was very helpful during her stay and took care of my children. My wife was relieved as she does not have any immediate family here in Virginia.

Having my daughter saved my life. I remember very vividly my worst emotional breakdown. It was a freezing, bitter, winter night. I was in my apartment all alone; my roommates had gone over to another building. I can still feel the intense emotions that coursed through my veins that night: agony, loneliness, anger, frustration, panic, sorrow, and most of all, shame. I had been dealing with the absence of my family, my friends, and my boyfriend. I felt that I was being forgotten by all of them. They weren’t able to tell when I was obviously in a sad mood, no one took me seriously when I would call crying to them about my misery. This night, my emotions rushed me all at once, causing me to weep uncontrollably. My body, piece-by-piece,

Picture a woman sitting at the table with a baby in one hand, phone in the other, bills scattered around on the table, and a look of despair written all over her face. This was the image that I saw of my mother at the age of six, a struggling single parent taking care of three children. She walked around with a joyous look on her face for me and my siblings, but I knew that inside life’s reality was eating her away. Seeing my mother depressed because my father wasn’t in the picture was unbearable. Hearing her cry on the phone to my grandmother at night about how she can’t do it anymore was heartbreaking. Having to do everything alone greatly played a part on my mother’s emotions in a negative way.

As the plane lands, I see a gray smoke hovering the whole city of Manila, Philippines. It was exactly as I remember it to be. Hot, humid, polluted, and lots of mosquitoes from left to right. These weren’t pleasing at all, however there’s something here that makes me want to go back every time. That is my very own mother.

There comes a time in most of our lives where we have to find out things the hard way. Growing up as a child, I have always tried things. My mom would tell me several times not to do something, but I have always done the opposite and did things my way. My mom would always tell me, “Girl your head is hard as a rock”, “You are going to learn the hard way.” However, I did listen to her, but I did not care to do as she said. There was a car accident involving two of my friends. One of my friends has always told my friend the driver to never drink and drive, but my friend the driver did not care to listen until he was in a serious accident. Although, he lived, but this taught him a lesson not to drink and drive. He learned his lesson the hard way.

I agree with you when you say that infants have emotion. I am pretty sure of it. My six months baby is capable of expressing his feeling; for example, when I said something funny to him, he smile; when he is taken away from me, sometimes he cries; when his brother takes a toy he is playing with, he also cries, and so on. As you said, by carrying their emotions, infants are able to express their needs. Also, I believe that the best way to help the children with a tantrum is by leaving them alone. That is the one I put most in practice with my four-year-old child.

I will tell you a tale of a woman of great success. This is a woman that has inspired me to be something great one day and to never give up trying. Though she may be growing into her elderly years she has lived a very challenging, joyful, loving and successful life. She is a woman of great faith and character, she is my grandmother.