What Determines Success And Greatness?

One weekend, we had decided to clean out the house to surprise my mother. My father found papers stashed away that revealed theft charges; my mother had stolen medication when she substituted for the nurse in my elementary school. I remember my dad scouring the house for more evidence, even finding a stash of pill bottles under their mattress. She had another court date coming up that he learned about, just a few weeks before a family trip to Disney. Shortly after that hearing, my family took our last vacation as a whole, knowing that a key member would be lost to us the Monday after our return; she was going into work-release for two months. Before the end of those sixty days, my father learned that my mother had been unfaithful. Their marriage ended, and at eleven and nine, my sister and I said what we didn't realize would be goodbye to our mother for a great while. Her drug abuse continued, and months of time would pass between visits. We saw that sweet, ideal mother devolve into an addict. This loss has shaped me greatly, and it has taught me integrity, strength of character, and great love for others; without these things, my mother cost herself her family and

I came home one day to see both of my parents sad. As a third grader, I didn’t completely understand at the time, but my father had been laid off from the job he’d had since his teenage years. My father had started at the age of eighteen as a student worker at Southern Miss, and after years of hard work he had been promoted to the manager of shipping and receiving on campus. When the recession struck, the need to save money resulted in his position being terminated. My father was without a job. My father loved that job and when he lost it, he changed. He found a new love, alcohol. He let his love for alcohol become an addiction. He would do anything for alcohol; he even had secret stashes when my mom had removed all the prior alcohol from the house. Quickly my father became a violent drunk and began to routinely beat my mother and me. He became unstoppable; no person could get him back on track so my mother, in an attempt to keep me safe, removed him from the house. Even my mother’s best efforts weren’t always enough, as my father constantly broke into our house. One day my mother and I came home and my father was waiting in our den with a gun. We walked in, he pointed the gun at us, and then back at himself. He couldn’t decide to kill my mother, himself, or just all of us. He had more hatred in his eyes

All cultures are different and influence how we develop as adults. In my Mexican American culture many virtues of strength, courage, and hope has been passed on. Growing up in an environment where financial hardship prevailed I was still able to observe how my parents had hopeful attitudes, loved, had patience, and kindness toward others. Our strong family unity brought me comfort and confidence in knowing I had their support and guidance. The qualities my family passed on to me are hope, love, patience, kindness, respect, caring, and most significant being helpful. Culture and family engraved in my thoughts that hard work pays off and to uncover meaning in life one must persevere in education and thrive to support those struggling. Life has given me the opportunities to practice many qualities and I’ve learned they are to cherish. They have molded my character somewhat in that, as the years passed, I adapted and applied them. My intent is to keep the principles imparted to me and with a positive attitude, carry myself with might and bravery as I travel forward in life.

My childhood was split over two different and unique cultures. This special upbringing presented me with challenges that lead me to continually reflect on my life and identity throughout my childhood. I had to adapt to different educational systems as my family moved back and forth between Syria and the United States. However, that only motivated me to work harder and seize the opportunities that surrounded me at every point of my life. I learned to treat obstacles and hardships as chances for growth and development.

From the time I was born until the age of twelve, my family struggled with the basic necessities of life. My father worked endless hours in a factory, and yet somehow came home with a smile on his face. As a young kid, I never knew we were struggling. The thought had never occurred to me. As I got older I started to realize that my single father was working his life away to care and provide for his two little girls. He completely put aside his well-being because as long as his girls were cared for, nothing else mattered. Life was never easy, but as a young adult today, I have come to accept that my background has been a prerequisite for greatness, for it is our backgrounds that define who we are. The way we are raised, the way we are taught to believe, and the way we are taught to act, make us who we are today.

November 9th, 1996, my brother first entered this world cold, scared, and naked; then into the warm arms of my beloved 19-year-old mother as my 17-year-old father stood beside him. According to statistics, 8 out of 10 teenage fathers do not marry the teenage mother of their child; most couples don’t stay together at all. But here my brother is today 18-years later with my mother and my father still happily married with 3 kids. My parents both sacrificed a lot for my brother, my sister and myself, which included moving to a new state at a young age leaving everything they knew behind, going to night school, and doing countless hours of hard work. They made sure we never had to work for anything; they gave us everything we needed, wanted, and

At the age of ten, my mother told me she was leaving my father. I was not sad; in fact, the news was a relief. My sister, my mother, and I faced the aggressive side effects of my father's drug and alcohol addiction. I grew up with my dad treating my family like nothing, as if he was in constant control of us and we did not matter. At the time, I did not comprehend the divorce was because of my dad's drug and alcohol addiction. I assumed when he passed out on the couch and would not wake up it was funny. The irrational mood swings were because he was overworked. My life, my view of the world, shifted when I pieced together what addiction

Due to economic circumstances and my father's alcohol abuse, my family suffered from family problems and emotional pain. My father would come home drunk and argue with my mother about our economic circumstances. I was too young to understand what was occurring between my parents and I grew up believing that this was the typical family. I remember a specific occasion when my dad came home and he said that he was tired of us. He left my mom with my three siblings and I without money and anywhere to go. This situation terrified me and caused me to focus in school to forget about my personal problems. I could not understand how my father could leave us and not care for us. We then lived in someone's garage because we could not afford a home. Throughout

My childhood was simple. Nothing special, nothing horrible. I was raised to value hard work, honesty, and education. I love my childhood, and besides moving house a few times nothing happened that was a serious change. I liked to think that I was an average kid, I was going to graduate high school, go to a local college, and then find my way through life. However, the summer after I turned seventeen, things changed, abruptly. One morning, in late July, I woke up and decided to go on a hike. It was something I had always contemplated, hiking from my house in Newton to my grandparents house in the nearby town of Sedgwick. I got up early, packed some food and water, and left a note on the table. I remember heading out of town, walking out past Sand Creek Station, the golf course south of town. Then I remember waking up in a hospital room, no clue of who I was, where I was, or what was going on.

I am Alyssa DeLillo. Growing up I have lived a decent life. I was raised in a good household, tried to always keep people happy, and made lots of friends. Up until the age of eight I lived in a small city in California. I had the best parents and grandparents a child could ask for. At a young age though, I lost my father to a heart condition that couldn’t be controlled. At the time of it happening I didn’t understand what was going on but later as I got older my mother explained it to me. For a while, it was all I could think about and it still sits in the back of my thoughts but, I learned to move on and to cope with the sad thoughts. I reminded myself I still had my mom.

As a young girl, I never quite understood the importance my dad’s job had on me until I became much older. Throughout my childhood I was often mistreated out of the sight of my parents. From brutal words to simple exclusion, I never really fit in at my church. I was constantly separated from all of the children because I was the Pastor’s

Throughout my life, I’ve gone through everything that could possibly put me in emotional distress. I’ve been down a broken road with my father, the man I love so much I’ll make every excuse for whenever he disappoints me. I’ve encountered life where it’s not so enjoyable due to unacceptance and never ending judgment by my biggest critic, my mother, the woman whom I should feel most secure with. However despite the emotional mounds of pain these matters carry, I was able to lift the suffocating weight long enough to realize everything that burdened me, made me strong enough to have the will power to be independent and make life changing decisions on my own. At three years old, I met my biological father in a local supermarket’s parking lot; I remember vividly, the exact moment when this stranger held me in his broad, strong arms. I recall screaming at an immense volume not even laying eyes on him. All I had been focused on was finding my mother, the woman who played both parental roles in my life. This clearly justified the great state of confusion I was in in his presence since I wasn’t at all aware I even had a father. As I grew older, the visits to my father’s house became the norm and having begun developed a “best friend” type of relationship with him, I found myself crying more and more when I had to go back to my mom’s settlement. I never wanted to leave; my life became filled with happiness, filled with a father’s love I had never felt

To this day, I can still remember standing at the end of my driveway watching my mother arrive home from the bus stop. This day was different; she was not coming home empty handed. In fact, she had stopped at a yard sale on the way home and bought a prize for me, a doll named Suzy. This memory, from the age of two, embraces the story of my mother and my entire childhood. In Indianapolis, Indiana in September 1980, I was born to a single mother. Throughout her life, she worked for the phone company in downtown Indianapolis. Even though she raised us through hardships and despair, she always took the time to love my brother and me outwardly. Until second grade, I have no recollection of my father visiting more than three occasions. At last, in fourth grade we began to spend weekends at his house and with his family. Sadly, when I was eleven we learned that my father had cancer. One week before Christmas, after a school music program, I read his obituary in the paper and told my mother he had passed away. From that moment, our family forever changed, specifically my relationship with my mother.

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.

My mother relocated to Birmingham, Alabama my first year of high school seeking a better life. Apparently, my father started to miss having his family because he went from being a “ghost father” to a “pop up father”. My father was here one moment and gone the next; he was constantly in and out of our lives. Initially, my classmates scrutinized and ridiculed me for having a fatherless household. I felt destitute and powerless. I needed to find someone or something to influence me in a better way by helping me change from a boy into a man. I became a recluse, never interacting with anyone.