Personal Narrative: My Parenting

Growing up I was different from all the other boys; for example, during recess in elementary school most boys would elect to go play “Power Rangers”, but I would always choose to play house with the girls. If we had a free day during Physical Education the boys would generally chose to play some sport that requires a ball, and I would choose to go play double Dutch with the girls, pretty much anyone I chose to hang out was a girl. At the time I didn’t think it was weird that I generally enjoyed doing things that were traditionally considered girly, It was just an aspect of who I was, But once I went to middle school I learned that meant people would call me gay. It would later take me over eight years to have the courage the courage to come out of my closet, and admit that I was gay.

When I was sixteen years old, I had my first child. The experience was a long process of ups and downs. There were many lessons to be learned. Strength, motivation, courage and determination were my goals to getting through the obstacle of having my daughter at sixteen. The feeling of being pregnant and sixteen was horrible. How I got through it is the start of this story.

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.

Lastly and most importantly, I'm a daughter. Being any type of child to someone can bring much love but also a lot of hurting and responsibilities. When my sister was leaving for college it was very stressful for everyone, especially my mom because no matter how close you are with your children sending them to college in some small way feels like your losing them We have a big window looking outside into the front yard and street, l was sitting there done night reminiscing. My mother walked over and sat down beside me, we sat in silence for a while I looked over to her and she was heavily breathing, could smell some alcohol off her breathe.Tears we strolling down her face, she looked at me and said "Grace, know there's a lot going on, but just know that you can talk to me about anything I'll always be here.

A little girl with her blonde ringlets pulled into tight pigtails complete with yellow ribbons squealed with delight at the colorful sight before her. Tents painted with blues, reds, greens, and purples towered around her as tall as mountains compared to her four-foot-tall stature. Balloons, cotton candy, and clowns mingled in the crowd like wild animals on an African plain. My mother latched her hand onto mine until I saw the most majestic animal next to the booth with the funny-looking mirrors. Its gigantic ears and stubby toes mesmerized my five-year-old brain, and I tugged on my mom’s long arm. “What’s that, Mommy?” I questioned with wide eyes. She followed my gaze and answered, “An elephant, Honey.” After that day, elephants adorned my

My parenting style did not vary that much, I still provide Ayan with resources and with the support that she requires to thrive and develop. Aryan is 10yrs old now, and she can express herself clearly, So I try to realize her strength to show her how far she come. For example, Ayan is continuing to be a strong reader, and always seems to have a fiction book she is understanding. Thus, I encourage her by reading the same books as Aryan, and converse about some of funnier or more interesting in the book. I also try to see an Ayan’s weakest point so I can pull her up. For example, Music is the solitary thing that Aryan has a difficult time with. I do encourage Ayan to explore other Music, thinking that she may perform better at others. This

“Today is the day my story ends and the memory of all the unwritten things disappear.”

It is as though she didn’t hear her mother’s allegations against her dad, only the attack. Arlene was ready to pounce, apparently just waiting for the opportunity. “You don’t like being around me either, you only like work. Daddy is my real mommy, always around, and you’re not. You just waited all this time because you wanted to yell at him because you haven’t said anything to me all night. I stayed with you watching TV just to see if you would talk to me but you just sat there, waiting, ready to pick a fight as soon as daddy came back. How can we enjoy this new camper if you won't let us? I thought you would be glad daddy agreed to buy it, so we don’t have to sleep on the ground anymore, and even that didn’t make you happy. You’re never

“Push, push, push! You almost got it.” I could remember like it was yesterday popping out a new born baby and seeing what happens next. My son came into this world with being a crybaby and spoiled as by his grandmother. My son became a big part in my life: Thinking about him before I think about someone else. Becoming a beautiful mother with grey hairs arriving before I met my mid-twenties. Even going to the laundromat because we had so many clothes we had to make two trips. Maybe being a first-time mother it's more to think about and deciding if it's the right thing to do. Becoming a mother wasn't easy, I wanted my son to have the world so, I made my decision of trying to be the best parent every for my son and that's when he became a mommy’s boy.

I would share what I learned to my family by letting them know about school. My mother plays a big role in helping me out with my daughter when it's time for me to do my school work she takes her for me because with my daughter I can't really just sit and tell her why mama needs to do school work with her being so little. When it comes to work and my boss I would honestly have to do most of my work before the deadlines just because i work full time 12 hour shifts in a factory most the time.So when working I really have to juggle work and school to even out between those hours. When it comes to sharing my learning skills with friends some don't think I learn as much with me doing online classes instead of actually being in the class.

A few days ago my mom told me I was supposed to be a December baby, but I am a October baby. I was born two months early. When I was born my skin was yellow. I had to be wrapped in a blue blanket that made me light up blue. Its called a Bilirubin blanket.The doctors said I was Jaundice. My mom and I had to stay in the Hospital for a few days to recover. Even though I was born very early I was still very healthy. I still am.

On April 23rd, 2017, I was suppose be observer Crystal (Mother) and Chance (infant) Mackey for last two hours from 4pm to 6pm. During these two hours, I have to observe the Parent and Child relationship and interactions. On this day Chance’s guardian Shasta Epps picked him one hour early at 5pm. I called the on-call coordinator and informed them of the situation. Services were shortened; because I was no longer able observe to Ms. Mackey and Chance interactions, as a result of Ms. Epps picking Chance up

My parents were teen parents and got married while my mom was pregnant and just finishing High School. I think that their age really impacted how they raised me compared to my siblings, I am 11+ years older than all of my siblings. My parents were young and not fully ready to parent. My parents separated when I was 5 and divorced soon after. The divorce greatly impacted my family experiences. I had to learn to navigate two households, blended families, different rules/expectation, conflict between my parents, etc. I feel that being the child of young parents and then divorced parents, a lot of responsibilities were expected of me at a young age from my single parenting mom. This experience made me a pretty responsible teen and young adult. I was working at 12 earning my own money and responsible for buying my own clothes and other needs. I was one of the few in High School who had enough money saved to purchase my own car when I turned 16.

After my mother and I have an argument she usually smiles at me and says, it’s because we’re so much alike that we argue. She reminds me that our lack of communicating often stirs more trouble than why we were arguing. I used to get upset that my mom didn’t set time aside for our family to spend time together or make us eat together at the dinner table. I was upset because I was comparing our family to my friends’ families. I valued those things and assumed my mom didn’t, but I was wrong. My mom had so much on her mind everyday it was breaking her on the inside. Not only had I wanted my mom to be like my friend’s moms, now I had wanted my mom to be different because she was depressed. Bonhoeffer mentions that we desire images of others that we want, but aren’t the true image they bear as Christ’s (pg37-38). At first I was puzzled. How is a good image of mine, not Christ’s image for her? I learned that His image is neither right nor wrong, but simply uniquely divine. My mom could have done those things, but her whole life would have had to be different, and I would never want to change who my mom is.

When I was younger, I honestly have no memories of being told, “only boys play with that,” or “girls wear dresses.” I come from a very open minded family who accepts me for who I am. According to the traditional ways in society, girls like pink and purple, and boys like blue and green. I do remember playing with a lot of Barbie dolls and wearing my pink skirt, but my favorite color was orange and I played football out in the yard with the rest of the neighborhood kids. When I was in the fourth grade I only wore jeans and long sleeved shirts, I would not even wear capris all the way up until I graduated high school. That was the year I first became self conscious about myself and learned what