The Story Of My Family

Family is a grand thing, and I think that is the reason that God created it the way he did. It’s full of many members that come together to love and care about one another. Maybe I’m partial, but I think that my family is the best. Family dinner once a week and twice on holidays, worshiping together at our church, coming together with people that you love is an amazing thing. We tell each other about our week, and our older relatives tell us of how things used to be. The stories are one of my favorite parts. Countless stories are passed down through the generations in every family. Tales that tell of how we came to be and the trials that ancestors before us went through and learned from. Every family’s story is unique, including mine. The story my family tells most often, is the story of Phillip Hamman.

For the past seventeen years of my life minus a few months, I have lived in the United States. I grew up skiing and bicycling in Grand Rapids, Michigan, until my family decided to move all the way out west to Flagstaff, Arizona. Many eleven-year-olds might become stubborn and defensive in response to such a massive, life-changing move, but I remember embracing it because I was with my family, and I was ready to face any obstacle that unveiled itself to me because I knew that my late comedic father, my worrisome mother, and my troublesome brother would be right by my side. As we made the two-day drive from Michigan to Arizona in our SUV together, we watched the numbers on the odometer crawl up more and more until there were 2,000 more miles on the car than there were when we started, and we

My family history is a complicated one to say the least, however through this research I have learned more about them than I previously thought. Throughout the years I have spent many hours talking to both of my grandparents listening to their life journeys. My father’s mom Charlene had a rough childhood. She was born into complete poverty in the Central Valley in a town called Porterville, CA, as a field worker in during the depression. Her mother my great-grandmother was full blooded Cherokee Indian, and they experienced harsh discrimination. Living along the roads in ditches, or one room shacks they never really had much of nothing. When Charlene was 13 she got married and pregnant to an awful man, and before my Uncle David was born my grandma filed for divorce and began dating my grandfather Homer. She ended up marrying Homer and by the time she was 19 she had all four of her children, my father Don being the youngest.

My family has lived here in Oregon since the before the war between the states, and family tells us stories of the good times before all these japs started taking over. Around the turn of the century or so it started to seem like these people were everywhere. It all started with the building of the railroad. The companies brought in those people to build the railroad, and now that the railroad is completed they will not leave. To make matters even worse there is an effort by their leaders to get them to strike for the same pay as us white people that work for the railroad. There has been extremely little or no effort on their part to become like us Americans. I was walking through town the other day and what did I see, there was a huge Buddha statue in front of a new Buddhist temple. They can't even go to church like regular people.

My personal narrative has to do with my journey alongside my family in an event that we all faced. When I was in fourth grade my father got cancer. I am not over protective of the fact that he did, in fact I am quite open on the subject. If they haven’t forgotten, then my friends know, and classmates at the time did know. In this way it is very personal, but also a shared story. As I stated earlier, my father got cancer when I was in fourth grade. This can certainly be considered an unusual childhood. I do not think that many children have had their parents go through cancer when they were around this age. My family spent lots of time in this situation. We were open with this fact, and people had helped us. My fourth grade class

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.

My mother, my brother, and I were on the train going to Munich. Life was already hard as it is and my brother dying certainly did not help it. It was a day in January 1939 and this was the day when I would begin a new chapter in my life.

At that time it was the most logical decision that one could have made. If it were you, would you have done the same? To protect his family and to give them the opportunity of a lifetime was one thing that he, my father Yong X. Vang, would never regret doing. He is a man who for the sake of the Americans, fought in the Secret War which then led him through many hardships and guided him and his family to where they are today.

After the world war 2 my family from turkey (my grandma's parents) decided that they are going to immigrate to Israel because in this time a lot of Jewish people started to immigrate to Israel. They had a really good chance to move to Israel. All the Jewish people knew that the big ship coming to Israel and that’s their chance to start new life. They went into the big ship and they already knew that the british people (Who ruled Israel) might catch them, but they decided to take a risk. When they arrived in Israel the british people caught them and all the other people in the ship and took them to a really big labor camp in Cyprus for eight months, from their stories it sounds like a jail. They

During the period of 2008 -2011 my family went through a strong period of turmoil. My father was working in a city that was declared by the United Nations the “most dangerous city in the world, not officially declared under war.” This had many effects on us, in terms of loss from loved ones to the danger my father was in at a daily basis. This relentless violence was the sole reason why we relocated. Further, switching colleges several times as we finally settled in Tennessee. This rollercoaster of emotions and events is what affected me, I struggled with depression from the situation. This period of hardship most definitely was an obstacle to my learning. The initial part of my college career was cluttered with distractions, which took away

Have you ever lost a close one, friends, family? Once you experience a loss, everything changes. It’s a life changing experience, it’s the worst feeling in the world. When losing someone, you look back and have so many regrets. You start to think “Could I have been a better person for them?”. It’s permanent, once they are gone, they are gone.

Tears streamed down my face as I watched my older brothers drag my beloved dolls behind their bikes. My four year old body was full of hate, and I thought to myself, I will never forgive them. Don’t get me wrong, family is the most important thing in my life. All my earliest memories revolve around my siblings, cousins, and all other family members. Being the youngest in my family, I looked up to my older siblings. Literally.

Ever since I was born into this world I knew that God placed me with the perfect family. My parents and my older brother mean the world to me. We were all so close and comfortable with one another and that’s how a true and understanding family is supposed to be. It was the summer of my sophomore year and I was so excited to be able to spend it with the people I loved most. As the summer went on I began to realize that my parents were hardly speaking to one another. My brother and I just assumed that they had gotten into a fight and they were just taking time apart. A few weeks on and they still weren't communicating with one another. At this point I realized that something was wrong. The family that I once loved and looked forward to seeing was growing apart. They never kissed, or hugged or even simply talked to one another. It was near the end of summer when my mom told me news that would change my life forever. She sat me down and told me that she was filing for an immediate divorce. I was so devastated and furious at both of them. I couldn't understand why they let their relationship get to this point. As weeks went on I noticed that my mom was always on the phone, and whenever I would ask who it was she would simply ignore me.I soon began to realize that the reason why my mom was becoming so distant is because she was having an affair. I felt like my world was turned upside but this was only the beginning of the struggle I've been facing with my parents.

I was born in Austin, Texas as the first child and I was surrounded by a very supportive and caring family. My mom was born in Chanhassen, Minnesota and my dad grew up in Austin, Texas. My Mom’s family lives in Minnesota and we have spent summers traveling there since I can remember. I have always enjoyed going there and spending time with my grandparents, my aunt, uncles and cousins. We would have these amazing dinners at my grandparent’s house where the entire family would come and celebrate my grandma’s delicious cooking. I can remember spending time at my aunt and uncle’s cabin on a lake in Minnesota where we would do nothing but fish for days. My Uncle Darrell is an avid fisherman and we had fun catching lots of fish. My Grandpa Scholer and my Uncle Darrell are retired military. My grandpa was part of the command unit for General Eisenhower in the Battle of the Bulge. On top of the amazing family and support system in Minnesota, I have an extremely encouraging family here in Austin. Growing up, my Grandma Ruth wouldn’t miss one of my baseball games for anything. My Grandpa Bryant would host family gatherings and was also very supportive of me. My mom’s brother, Bob and his family would always have us over for lots of fun celebrations. I have been blessed with two amazing families and I can’t even begin to say how much I love and care for them all.

In terms of ancestry, I know very little about where I come from. On my father's side, much of my linage were African-American slaves. On my mother's side there little information to help me orient myself on a map other than being a mix of European which would include, Italian, Welsh, German, and Irish.