What Does It Matters?

A majority of my family’s extreme financial hardships ended before I entered middle school. I often thought that I’d matured and learned a lot since then, that I no longer had that chip on my shoulder. Before reading Laurel Johnson Black’s chapter, “Stupid Rich Bastards”, I figured I would remember slurs and taunts thrown at me as a child, or the glares of those who thought they were better than me. However, as I read her words, I found myself remembering more of what being poor meant to me, not to other people. Not only did I relate to her memories, but also her feelings toward college, and where she belonged.

Senior year is time for high school students to celebrate their accomplishments and move on to their new life - an independent life from parents. However, you should respect and appreciate these last moments of love, care and support from your parents because many unfortunate children such as Emily in “I Stand Here Ironing” story written by Tillie Olsen have not received all the care from their parents since their youth age. Olsen expresses successfully in this monologue story the distance between a mother and her daughter along with the mother’s guilty feeling of not being able to fix their relationship.

As I grew older, it was impossible to notice that my world was imperfect. In elementary school, all my parent’s problems here hidden; I didn’t understand my family’s economic status. As I grew older and began to ask my parents question about our lifestyle and compared it to the other people around us. This conversation would always end in the same place; because we can't afford it. My high school is composed of economically unstable families, and economically stable families. Seeing that other families were better off than mine, I grew up with the idea that a comfortable life, is a luxurious life. I know that others around

By receiving gifts of any sort, whether in the form of a wrapped present or simple gas money, a child or even young adult adapts a behavior of feeling entitled to what it is they have been given. Both my sisters, who are twins, have this problem. They were the first females to be born into the family, and have been treated as the princesses my mother always wanted. Growing up they always got to have the big birthday parties with plenty of friends and family around. My parents were always willing to shower them with clothing and gifts for the simplest task and accomplishments. The never-ending cycle of receiving without truly earning is the base line for the habit that was formed; if a reward is being collected with little to no output of effort

One of the reasons the children in the study were less happy is because they compared their “gifts” to their peers “gifts” and they felt like they got

I come from a middle class background. My mother is a criminal defense attorney and my father is a neurosurgeon. I was fortunate enough to have parents who always provided everything that my siblings and I ever wanted or needed. However, my parents definitely put limitations on what all they would buy my siblings and I. For example, when I turned 16 I wanted a new car that cost around 30k. But, my parent’s thought that the car was too nice and too expensive for a 16-year-old girl to have. As a result, my parent’s ended up buying me a much cheaper car that only cost around 20k. Although I was annoyed that I couldn’t get the car that I wanted, I realized that I was lucky to have a car at all. I also feel fortunate that with the help of scholarships and my parent’s I’m able to pay for my college education. So, although I don’t come from a rich background I’m fortunate and thankful to not come from a poor background either.

Raised in a household of 3 other guys, by a wonderful lady by the name of Annie. I wasn’t raised in the best of ways and nothing came our way easy. We came from having nothing, no decent clothing, no healthy meal, no transportation, which cause little minor problems at school .Going to school i felt like an outcast. Reminding me of a story written by David Sedaris called “Me Talk Pretty”. She felt so different from the other classmates to where she felt left out. Moms was always working or out gambling and we were home with no money to purchase things we needed to get through the day. we didn't even have enough money to get a haircut from the barber college, which resigned on the second block down from our street. So i started cutting my brothers hair, as well as my own.

My parents worked hard and strived for their success, people often thought because my mother dressed me very nice that I had money. I recall growing up in a one bedroom apartment, but as my parents worked to gain more knowledge through college and grad school that they would able to provide a better life for me as I grew older. My mother works as a social worker and dad a Veteran of the United States Army and currently possesses a degree in Business Administration society labeled us as stuck up rich girl. My grandparents often told me stories of days on the farm and working for ten cents a day to earn fifty cents a week. I was taught to be thankful for the small things and big things would come. My childhood often bring tears to my eyes as

In retrospect, my childhood should have been wonderful, and to any outside observer it was. Our family wasn’t impoverished, we lived in a wonderful house, and life seemed to float by in an absolute utopia. “The American Dream” is an understatement to describe that life by any means. Of course, nothing is ever as it seems. A picture says a thousand words, but how many of them are true? Only I knew what happened behind our closed doors. To outsiders, we where perfect. However, what the bulk of the masses did not know is just what was hidden. Long nights spent in tears, from myself, my mother, even my father.

I was living with a man who made $400,000 annually simply for being everyone’s favorite toy. This man had everything he could ever want but he was still stuck with the one thing he couldn’t get rid of; me. I am a reminder of the past, the dirt under a laborers fingernails, the ink splotch on his paychecks. As his resentment grew, i was poor in a new definition. I not only lacked financial aid, but i lacked a support system, i had no family left to tuck me in at night, i had nothing left to hold. Years passed and i got used to this life, i found ways to get to school but i still struggled to understand basic topics. Doing my homework required focus, something i could never get in that house. I scraped by for those 10 years, doing what i could to keep from becoming uneducated like my mother and stuck with a rotten oak

Thirteen is beginning to realize the admiration she has for her parents. Instead of arguing, screaming, and crying, Thirteen’s become more diplomatic, settling arguments with her parents with words and negotiations. She’s filled with respect for her parents; thankful for never-ending time, work, and efforts spent on her life. Other times, she’s filled with nostalgia, wishing she could travel back to a decade ago, when her parents still read her bedtime stories or sang nursery rhymes with her. It only then that she realizes the precious nature of time, and how every last grain of sand in the great hourglass of life is soaked with importance. Things have changed so quickly over time that Thirteen barely had time to live in the moment than grieve about the

My family did not have that much money when I was growing up. My family still doesn’t have a lot of money currently, but we are in a better position than before still. When I was little there were always things that other people had that I didn’t have. I wasn’t really jealous like lots of other kids would be, but like everyone of course I would want to have some nice things of my own too. I grew up with a really slow and old computer, which I just recently replaced this summer after I built my own computer. The event that helped me learn to always be thankful is actually two years long: middle school. I did not have a phone when most of the other kids did in middle school. All the kids would be using their phones chatting or playing

I really like the flexibility of writing this paper. The topic is very broad so I could write basically on anything that I want. As a writer who likes to do creative writing, I enjoy reminiscing memories before writing them down for the essay; I felt various emotions - joy, happiness, anxiety, fear - as I write the paper. Being able to write down your life story for others to read is a wonderful thing to do and I really enjoyed the process of outlining my experiences and crafting them into an emotionally powerful essay.

I grew up receiving a candy bar for every birthday and Christmas. From birth to age six, I wore used clothes that an older cousin would kindly donate to me. I never

After that, I never asked for much again. So yes, being spoiled as a child actually make me aware of how lucky I was and humbled me. Every Christmas and birthday I have had since I have donated $100 to charities- I can confidently say that it’s better to give than to receive. That’s the good in being an only child.