The Recollection Of A Failure In My Family

Kenji Miyazawa once said, “we must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey”. This quote applies to loss in the fact that when we face a loss we must continue our lives and use the loss to make us stronger. The loss of a family member is always hard to deal with and it affects everyone differently. Some people are open about their feelings and others bottle them up. The loss of a family member does not always refer to a death, but can also refer to an emotional or physical distance put between two people. In “The Shawl” by Louise Erdrich, there is an example of a physical loss and its effects on the family, while in “Bone Black” by Bell Hooks the loss shown is of the emotional kind. It is interesting to view these stories side by

On 02/26/2016 client Gregory Spencer came to the SSO for a House Meeting with HS De La Torre. The purpose of the meeting was to develp a Housing Plan and explore other possible housing opportunities.

History is defined as the study of the science of humanity in the past. It's a broad subject that spans over countless people groups throughout the years that the world has been around. Even before the times we have written word history was still being made, and it is still extremely important. We tend to forget that in our average day to day lives we are still making history. That all over the globe everyone is taking part in what might be in a history book someday.

A dysfunctional family is a group of people usually related by some means, not always necessarily by blood, in which conflict, misbehavior, maltreatment and neglecting create a hostile life for its members. To explain this idea better we will see the definition of family, the differences between a healthy and a dysfunctional family; their characteristics and behavioral patterns. Some examples will help us examine this issue better, taking us to discuss the different factors that contribute to the formation of such families, along with its consequences in today’s society.

Dysfunctional families can be described in many ways but the most common description is a family that has a destructive and harmful parenting with a lack of concern for the child's well being. Dysfunctional families will leave a harmful lifelong psychological impacts on a child. This varies from case to case, with some situations leaving a child of a dysfunctional family with physical and emotional abuse and trauma. There are cases of dysfunctional families that are helped, mostly through counselling and other programs. While in other cases dysfunctional families can not be helped in those cases the child is usually removed from the situation. There are ways to prevent dysfunctional families from affecting the child weather that by

Through my middle school and high school career, I would’ve never thought growing up in a dysfunctional family would build my character. My family was separated like two couples that divorced. Although I didn’t like some of my sisters, I showed favoritism to one who had the same interest as me. My mom worked at a retirement home where she took care of elderly people. Her taking care of us was already stressful since she claimed we put her through hell in her late 30’s. As for my dad, he didn’t have much luck landing a job and remained a stay at home dad. The one thing that I appreciated the most was being around my other 5 siblings. Ronny, 27, and Louis, 24, are my older brothers. Ashley, 23, and Iesha, 22, are my oldest sisters. However, Arnae is 17 and she is the baby girl of the family. Most of us got along when we decided to be in one another presence. For example, my sisters Ashley and Iesha hung out with one another because they found interest in gossiping, fashion, and makeup. My two eldest brothers loved watching the NBA together and playing video games against each other. My youngest sister and I were left together despite our times of arguing over food. I was the only talented person in our family with skills in Art, dancing, and basketball.

My mom has always told me that I was her biggest pain, which I mean is true because when she was pregnant with me I liked to camp out on her hip or on her bladder. Finally, on April 26, 2000 at 7 Rivers Hospital I Rebecca Lynn Davis was born to Donna and Jim Davis. Legally I am the youngest out of my sister Jessica and I, but in my world, I consider my cousin Kasey my bother since my parents basically raised him since his mom wasn’t cable of doing it. Growing up we lived in a neighborhood that the house was kind of close, which lead into my parents becoming good friends with the next-door neighbors which their kids ended up becoming my best friends until about middle school. While talking about the next door neighbors there was one neighbor that I’ll never forget I called him uncle Gene he was my all-time favorite, he is a very tall guy and made my smile go from one side of my face to the other. Well one day I went to my aunt Kelly’s house to see everyone and he was there so I ran up gave him a big huge and he picked me up and put my head into the fan. From that day on I never let him down about putting my head into a fan. As a child, I was a dare devil, if you told me not to do something there was a good chance that I would do it anyways. Since I was so daring I ended up with three fractured growth plates in my left are, stitches in my lip from tumbling in the house, also I scabbed me entire face from falling down the metal blenchers face first. That started the name Ms.

Family Theory deals with multiple theories that applied to families and those situations that occurred whether it was a job, marriage, husband, or even having a baby. However; I will list a few of those mentioned in my class; Rational Choice and Social Exchange Theory, Symbolic Interaction, Life Coarse and Lifespan theory, and Conflict and critical Theory. The main theories that mostly happen in my Geno gram were life course and Rational Choice theory. In this paper I will write about the theories that applied to my family levels.

I was born and raised in a dysfunctional family. I have two brothers and three sisters growing up I didn't see the troubles of the world because they were always hidden from me, but my family was and is not perfect. My sister, Olivia ran away with her boyfriend to Mexico when she was twenty one years old and rarely ever comes to visit, my sister Vicky is an alcoholic who never learns a lesson, my brother Eddie beats his wife and kids and not to mention is also an alcoholic, my brother Tony was a drug addict, an alcoholic, he did hard drugs such as cocaine, heroin, crystal meth,and about any drug you can think of he constantly put my family in danger because of the people he was affiliated with. Thankfully he is currently in a rehab center, getting better day by day after almost losing his life. Now my sister Janett in which I call Nina is my blessing she is the eldest sister and is also my best friend, my support system. She was the one of the few to graduate high school and go to community college, she motivated me to do better and not go down the same path my siblings did. Because I saw the life my brothers and sisters had it encouraged me to do better and have a bright and knowledgeable future, to make my mom proud and not continue the trend of disappointment. Although I was born in Riverside, California I was raised in two different cities, Fontana and San Bernardino. I remember very little living in Fontana, I can remember playing club houses with my sister Vicky or

My family is an extremely run of the mill normal family from Korea. We live a very generic life for people who also live in Korea, but compared to the American standard, our life is kind of poor. My mother's father used to work as a telegraph operator while my mother's mother is the daughter of said telegraph station's owner. In November 4, 2004. My mother came to the United States of America, and because of that, I became a part of the many immigrants who came to America to find a better life and create a brighter future while basking in the land of opportunity. When I was seven years old, my mother heard information about becoming a registered nurse in America from her friends at her hospital. In America, a nurse's payment is many times more than in Korea. If a person can become a nurse, then the whole family can slowly become integrated into the process of immigration. Since it’s easier for me to get a higher education in America, I decided to stay. As soon as my mother heard about this wonderful information, she immediately jumped on the idea of pursuing a similar career in America and happily began to prepare for her upcoming tests that would stress her knowledge of the English language. English tests like the TOEFL and IELTS became building blocks not only for my mother to make the first step into a brighter world, but also to getting granted her American nursing license and taking one step closer to living the American dream.

Family is a term that can mean a variety of different things. A dictionary would define family as a group of individuals who live under the same roof. That isn’t true though, some families live thousands of miles away from each other. Most families do live under the same roof as each other. This means that they are the people you around most. You see them on a daily basis and most of your time is spent with them.

My mother had mentioned to me that her family‘s story is longer than a book, however, it is so hard for me to ask the details of what had happened to her because all the stories in her life strike a chord in her heart. For example, almost all of my father’s friends in Hong Kong were the people who escaped from communist China. Their stories were soul stirring. Many of them left their families in China. Their vicissitudes of life contained joy, sorrows, partings and reunions. My father was considered very lucky because he survived. Many of them capsized in the rough sea; some of them simply spent all of their energy and died on the way to their dream; some of them were caught by the militias or the soldiers; some of them were extradited back to China by the British government. Their families left in China suffered numerous humiliations. However, more than thirty years having passed, their stories were dim without a voice in history. Either their stories were too bitter to bring up, or they did not want to be named as a traitor to their country. During Mao’s era, and even for a while after, anyone who escaped to Hong Kong was considered a traitor and turned over to the enemy. Escaping to Hong Kong was a very sensitive topic. Therefore, we would hear these stories all the time, but we hardly ever see anything written down about what they had been through. I have lived in the United States for more than thirty years, vivid memories of my childhood still

There is no pain quite as severe and longlasting as the pain of divorce. Nothing will ever compare to the sting and agony of watching your beloved family fall victim to a plague that you are helpless to fix. All you can hope to do is to stand by idly as everything you have ever loved turns to ash before your eyes. From the nights of holding my sisters weeping head in my arms, to the nights where I struggle to hold up my own, the evil that is divorce is all destroying and has changed my life in ways that cannot be comprehended. However, just as a phoenix rises from the ashes of his destruction, one can rise above the deep gloomy trenches of depression after the storm of divorce. It all comes down to how you bounce back and learn from it. The downfall of my family had a long lasting effect on me and is still present even today, This being said, the one lesson that has carried me through the years is this: What does not kill me will only make me stronger in the days to come.

This is a story about me. MY family, MY home and the worst experience of MY life, but we can start with him. He grew up with five other siblings and a father that used a belt on them after one small mistake. My mother and him grew up in the same city on the same block, so they knew each other as children before they were married. I want to make it perfectly clear that he was not my father. My mother married him two years after she divorced my father. “D” came into my life when I was too young to know the difference between a good person and a bad one.

Sitting with my aunt Alning and cousin Vincent is a pleasant reprieve from the bustle inside the house. A slight breeze cuts the air as I overlook the balcony. Rice fields stretch out past the horizon. Coconut trees, that my grandfather planted, stand tall with ripe coconuts waiting to be butchered open. Smoke from an outdoor cooking pit thickens the air-- a warning the farewell feast is well on its way.