Personal Narrative: Growing Up In Lockport

He would come home wasted after weeks of not being home; of me wondering where my father had been all those weeks. Staying up late on school nights just wishing for him to come home and tuck me in bed, to tell me he loved me, to ask me how my day was, or just tell me that he was there to stay. As a first grader it is hard to explain to your friends why they can not come to your house to play just knowing that if he is there that he will be drunk yelling at my mom for nothing. It got to the point to where he would come home after a few days and grab a suitcase and leave to go with his new girlfriend for a few days or even weeks. Right before he would leave I would always have hope that he would tell me where he was going or take me with him. I just wanted a father. My mother always told me that he would be back and to have hope; to always trust in her and that she would always be there for me. She was always my rock when I was younger. Until one day she finally told me what a monster the man I called my dad was. He was an abuser, physically and mentally. She told me the truth about the man that I wished was in my life for so long. He never wanted me. I was the youngest out

My maternal aunt gathered us together and we all sat on the couch. She turned to my mother and told us she had cancer. I looked at my aunt and I did not know what to say or how to respond. Three months later, my father received a phone call from his sister telling him that my pregnant cousin, Elizabeth, was diagnosed with leukemia and had to give birth to her premature baby. She and I grew up in the same house in Arizona and what hurt me the most was not being able to be with her during this difficult time. When we went to visit her in Arizona, my dad told us before entering the hospital room that he did not want us to cry in front of her. I was scared to enter. I did not know what to say to her but I knew I had to be strong. We stayed there for the holiday season but we never celebrated the holidays, that was too

Growing up in the Chicago area was a great experience for me, I was always a good kid but I had always struggled in school. The reason that I had a hard time in school was that I had A.D.D which was the cause of my distraction. Entering Pritzker College Prep was a different experience for me because I was overwhelmed, the reason as to why I felt overwhelmed was because of the amount of homework we got. I ended up spending nights where I would do my homework and wouldn’t get a sufficient amount of sleep and would also cause me to fall asleep in class. My grades started to drop which caused me to stop caring in school, so I also decided to just stop doing my homework and it caused a decrease in my grades.

As a kid I only got to see my dad on the weekends and those were the best days I had, I never understood why I couldn't live with my father full time because my mom never lived a stable life. My mother wasn’t as bad as it seems, she always made sure we had food and somewhere to stay even if it wasn't the greatest, even living with my mom my dad still paid for almost everything I had. When I was about 8 years old I lived in Mccomb and it was my dads weekend and I was so excited to get off of school and go see him, When I got home I was shocked to find everything packed up and my mom told me to get in the car, I was so upset to find out that me, my two brother, and her and her boyfriend were off to Florida. The whole trip to Florida I balled my eyes out and all I remember was that I kept saying that I wanted to live with my dad and that I hated my mom, I wondered how she could just up and leave without telling my

My grandmother, who is the mother of my mom, passed away due to heart failure at the age of 87. Since I was 6 or 7 she had been living in our house. The reason for that was, my grandfather, that I was named after passed away a year before I was born, so she was alone, and she was starting to get old. Since she lived with us for so many years, she had been a very important figure in my life. I can honestly say that she was like a 3rd parent for me, and losing her, made me fell horrible and helpless. I witnessed how real death is because of her passing. Combined with puberty, my grief caused me to become depressed for a long time. As I’m looking back it sounds really extreme, but there were some days that I did not even leave the bed thinking that there was no point to our existence. Thanks to some psychological counselling however, I was able to overcome that mental

Hey little brother sorry you can't call. I don't have any money on the phone. I haven't spoken with Mj in a month. I am so heartbroken. Your wife told me the great news and I am so happy for you both. Like I told Lamont I really don't talk to no one in Michigan. Kristy (1-2 times a week) Aretha and Fred (every other 3-4 months) maybe. Mom and Cass never. So that's that. You, Lamont and Mj are my concerns as long as you all let me be in your lives I will be. I love all my family dearly; however, along the way we have lost vital parts of who we are as a family. I think long incarcerations have made some feel that they are not family. Many people have forgotten who they are as simply Africans but on a basic level in this family we have forgotten

My Mom wanted to be there but she had no choice. She at the time left a three year old and I at the time was ten years old so I had to step up and take care him. My Dad would always be at work at times my older Sister would also help but ever since then I just felt like a Mom. Growing up it was just me and my little Brother. I missed out a lot as a kid because I had a big responsibility in my hands. When I got out of Elementary I was barely going to school. My grades were bad, my attendance even worse, and it was all because I didn’t care anymore. Being in school, I was always either late, skipping

I will never forget that day, the day I casually walked downstairs to find my parents sitting face to face at the kitchen table with both arms crossed and a serious look on their faces. I slowly walk towards my dad who is reaching out to give me a hug, looking at me with his sorrowful eyes, tells me that he will be moving out. At the time, I remember feeling confused, but I did not feel so emotionally affected because I was only just 5 years old. Being raised in a single parent household has been a challenge in my life and has impacted me through financial problems, social situations, and maturity.

When I was about five years old I had something happen to me that would change forever. My life before this was not the best and was really confusing to understand and that was because I was always moving into different houses with my mom and would always have a new dad which as a little kid you don’t really know what is going on and have to just deal with it. My mother was not the best and did not take really good care of me.

It takes years for a house to become a home. It had been about a week or so and I did not want to be there anymore. I felt like my life was ending and I had no one to listen to me and take what I wanted into consideration. How did spending every night crying myself to sleep become a habit to me? I spent my whole life growing up in Providence and I still don’t understand why we came all of this way but I guess it will ultimately be for the best.

At age of eight I moved away from a country leaving everything my mother grandmother language everything going up I was very close to my grandmother both my mom side and my fathers my father mom was the one who raised me since I was nine months she offered to raise me because me and my brother are very close we are 9 1/2 months apart or cold my grandmother "BIBI"similar to Nana in English, she took very good care of me love her so much she was basically my mother I slept in the same bed as her she even had my own parts to cook my food in them nobody else could used when I turned six starting first grade parents moved far from her house and they took me away from her every weekend she would ask for me and call for me I only got to see her like

My mom elaborated for me stating that things happen in life that we can not control. At times like this I should not blame myself just keep in mind that both of my parents love me and are doing something for me to have a better living environment and upbringing. Although it might be difficult to except this at first it might just be for the better of things in general. After I heard and accepted what my mom had to say, I was ready to hear what my pops had to say about it in his own words.

I began to help my mom around the house. I had to learn how to cook a proper meal when I was seven years old, do laundry among other things to give my mom some relief. One day, when I was nine years old, my grandmother shared the news of my father’s departure to the U.S and that he did so to give me a better chance. It was heavy news for me, and as an emotional child I cried with my grandma and felt sad that from now on I was not going to get the occasional visit from him. As a teenager in the process of growing into a man, you think you need a father figure, a man perspective, advice on things that life throw at you, it was clear that I didn’t have that anymore. I was fortunate to have my mother and my grandmother to teach me right and wrong; the rest was pretty much up to me.

Having my dad around all the time wasn’t my everyday routine. I’d see him once or twice a week so I wasn’t very much used to see him every day. One day I came home after school and he and my mom were on the balcony talking, the notice I was staring, they both looked at me and called for a family meeting by the tone of their voices I could tell there was

Devastated, I ran to my room gushing my eyes out. All these emotions going through my head of how my life would be without my parents in the same room or even house. From what I remember it all started about mid-June, the weeks before that were crucial. My parents would always argue over how to deal with a situation between me and my brother, Skyler. They hardly spoke to one another, but when they did they would just start bickering. I remember, one night after dinner they both went into ''their'' room with the door locked yelling at one another. Skyler and I didn’t know what to do, so we went downstairs and tried to figure out what was going to happen. With a scared tone I asked if mom and dad were going to get a divorce?" He answered back '' No, they love each other, they wouldn’t do that to us." That following night, was a school night everything was quiet except for my crying. I couldn’t sleep; all I was thinking about how it's going to affect my family.