Personal Narrative: Child Abuse And Neglect

Child abuse in America is an ongoing problem and something needs to be done. There are approximately one million children abused annually in the United States. (Table 339) Cases of child abuse and neglect are reported every ten seconds, and researchers believe that there’s three times that amount that goes unnoticed. (Child Abuse: Know the Signs and Stop the Violence Against Children.) Something needs to be done for these children who are too weak and too powerless to help themselves.

“The Child Abuse Prevention and Treatment Act” states’ that “child abuse is the leading cause of death in children under the age of eighteen.” Child abuse occurs when adults inflict violence and cruelty upon children. Abuse is any willful act that results in physical, mental, or sexual injury that causes or is likely to cause the child to be physically, mental, or emotionally impaired. Abuse happens to children of any age, sex, race, religion, and social status.

In order to get the help I needed, my mom had to pick me up two hours early from school every day and bring me to Anderson Elementary, where the speech therapist was located. Being forced to leave school early didn't help my social issues. The friends I had turned on me, and I became the weird girl. I no longer had people to eat lunch with, and invitations to birthday parties stopped arriving in the mail. I was mocked on a daily basis by people I had previously considered to be friends. Everyone had their own conspiracy theories about me; it hurt. Along with my new-found social struggles, my grades began to drop and I knew I had to make a

I attended a small charter school in Westland, Michigan. Between these walls, I broke and regained my pieces. My cultural difference set me apart from most of the kids - my accent, the way I dressed and the way I behaved. Social interaction with my peers were difficult because they didn’t know how to connect with me. When they did try to communicate, the conversation always provoked me. For instance, during the first week of school my table partner introduced herself and so did I. She asked where I was from and when I answered she was stunned. She later informed the rest of the class and for the rest of the day I was bombarded with outrageous questions like: Do you guys live in trees? How did you go to school? I felt so diminish as my peers indirectly stated their thought about people like

Then my family moved Yorktown, Indiana the summer before my 4th grade year and I started attending a public school. I only made two friends that year and I was bullied for everything from where I moved from to the kind of shoes I wore. I made very few more friends through 5th and onto 6th and 7th grade and dealt with more bullying. Towards the end of my 8th grade my English teacher who I adored made the class split up into groups and then preform a scene from Romeo and

Sitting alone in my new brother’s old room, I chewed at my nails. Over two thousand miles away from home, I am in the new town of Allen, Texas. I know a total of five people so far,  all being a part of my adopted family. I slowly pull myself down off my bed and trudge towards my bathroom. Looking in the  mirror, I pull my long chocolate brown hair out of its bun and rub my face. It’s crazy how things start over so quickly. I’m in a new house with a new family and new people who don’t really know me, again.

When I opened my eyes I saw ten plus people with agonised faces like the one from that famous painting “The Scream” - by Edvard Munch, staring at me, and slowly moving from one side to another. For a second I thought that I was just having a nightmare so I decided to take a deep breath, but the second after my thought ended I was penetrated by a sharp, unbearable under any circumstances pain, coming from the very top of my spine feeling like I had a large needle inserted into my upper vertebra. It felt like like every single muscle in my body contracted so hard that they ripped my limbs in pieces, and soon I was not able to move at all. All of this lasted for about 5 to 7 seconds my mom told me later on. I have

I wanted to tell my story about the traumatic experience that took place on October 30th, 2014. I had to face an obstacle that I thought was impossible. I soon found out it was not impossible but that it was possible just not going to be an easy task.

My life flashed before my eyes. I knew I couldn’t stop. I froze. I crashed. I woke up. On March 13th 2011, I had an accident. I woke up in a pool of crimson mud and snow, and I could see my right cheek in the corner of my eye. I slid my tongue across my teeth, and cringed in fear as I felt the abnormality inside my mouth: every tooth right of my nose was misshapen, and my front teeth were halfway out of my mouth. I was missing another. I thought God had tried to kill me, and I was irrational. I couldn’t move. I had slid off the ice covered ski path and off into the woods.

There are a variety of films that entail child abuse and neglect experiences. The film “Precious” is a great example of someone experiencing abuse and neglect. It focuses on the life of an African American female named Precious whose life involves various types of abuse. Precious is a young, overweight, African American female living with her abusive mother who does nothing but watch television and collect welfare through fraud. Precious is also a young teen mother to two children who were conceived through rape by her biological father. Due to being sexually abused by her biological father, Precious’ mother resented her and blamed for the sexual abuse, which resulted in her becoming physically and verbally abusive towards Precious. She has never had a support system aside from her mother, who has lived to belittle and abuse her. Precious is an illiterate sixteen-year-old who had difficulties in school, thus resulting in her being referred to attend an alternative school. However, her mother believed that having an education was not important and wanted Precious to focus on collecting welfare in order to bring more money into their home. Due to the various types of abuse she had experienced, Precious had an extremely low self-esteem. However, while attending the alternative school she began gaining some confidence and believing in herself and thinking about her future plans in order to have a better life for herself and her two children. Throughout the

Child abuse is the “saddest and most tragic problem” in the United States today (Child Abuse). Every year more than 3 million reports of child abuse are made in the United States involving more than 6 million children. Victims range from ages of a few weeks to late teenage years.

“Teenagers may already know how to dial 911 it’s like we were born with it established into our minds already” said Mark, the speaker at our high school assembly. As he went on pointing out the basics; pick up the phone, hit the nine once and then the one twice and push call, if the line is busy you hang up and try again, Mark said a few things I have never been taught in my life. “Is the person you are calling for suicidal? Is the phone call for domestic violence? What if you are calling for someone you don’t know at all?” I learned when a suicidal person needs medical help you must comfort them and call 911 and keep an eye out to make sure they do not go through with their plan. When dealing with a domestic abuse situation you should always

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

I was a responsible seven year old, I would say, considering my mother trusted me enough to leave me in charge of my sister as a toddler when I was still a child. This was not the first time I was in charge of my sister for a short amount of time, so nobody thought anything of it. In these twenty minutes, things took a turn for the worse when I made a simple but tragic mistake; I went to the bathroom for around two minutes, at the most. I heard Mia screaming, and so my sisterly, protective instincts kicked in.

I must be very tired last night, otherwise I wouldn’t be in such deep sleep right now. I wasn’t having dreams, and my entire mind has sunk into the space full of pure darkness and dead silence. Peace and calmness were the only things in this place. I wished this secured feeling could last forever. Knowing the exhaustion and pressure in the outside world, it had been my favorite place. I wanted to stay there longer, and longer.