what my parents taught me essay

challenging from when I was a child. It has taught me a lot about myself, others and life as a whole and how different this world was, has, and is becoming. It has also been a growing process and if I may say so myself, growing is not always comfortable. I have found that one of the most challenging things is how difficult it can be to raise children in a time when morals and sound mental status has become a choice instead of a requirement. My parents taught me that your morals and how you perceive things

Hispanic culture stresses not to forget your roots and be proud of who you are so I was raised that way, my parents and grandparents really valued our culture’s beliefs we may live in the US now but I should still be proud to call myself Mexican. Both my parents taught me to be confident of who I am and not let myself be affected by the strange world around me, to have a sense of pride in my originality and be proud of the gifts I was given by God. Religion is imperative to the Mexican culture, if

Stephen Curry, point guard for the Golden State Warriors, said about basketball, “What I tell people is to be the best version of yourself in anything that you do. You don’t need to live someone else’s story. It doesn’t matter where you come from – what you have, or don’t have, what you lack, what you have too much of – but all you need to have is faith in God, an undying passion for what you do, or what you choose to do in this life, and a relentless drive and the will to do whatever it takes to

Del always told me to write in a journal to record important events….as he had. I always thought it was a waste of time, but after what I’ve seen…it seems fitting. Simply put: This is the worst day of my life. When those pirates captured me all those weeks ago, I never thought that…that it would cost the life of the one man I would ever love. If they didn’t, I could have been there. I could have helped him. If it wasn’t for those useless excuses for monsters, Del would be alive now. As I look at

Identity Analysis “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind”, a quote from Dr. Suess. I wanted to acknowledge this quote because this inspired me to do my collage. I’m not going to lie, I started my collage later than told because I was having a creative block. I was scrolling through twitter and saw the quote on my timeline. I was motivated by this quote. I was afraid that what I was going to put on my collage would trigger judgement from

During my younger years I learned a lot; as I became older and approached teenage years my parents always taught me to not participate in underage drinking, drugs, and other illegal activities. Parents told me all the negative effects alcohol can have on you mentally, physically, and emotionally. I knew as I got older and began going to parties with my friends that there would be drinking and other activities going on that I should choose as an individual not to participate in. I always kept what my

Being raised in a diverse community has taught me to be compassionate, insightful, and understanding what happens in the real world. Growing up I was always very blessed to have two parents who loved and cared for me as much as they did, and who have blessed me with a life that everyone deserves. I am very fortunate that my parents have raised me in such a diverse community because I believe that it has shaped me to be the person that I am today. Throughout my whole eighteen years of life, I have always

influenced and shaped my identity over

emergency room staring at the ugly neutral colored walls; the bright fluorescent lights shining down on me like a spotlight. I remember the clean sterile smell of antiseptic and the noises that surrounded me; the buzzing and beeping of the machines and monitors meant to help people, the constant stream of announcements, and people talking on the phone. I remember the hurried rush of everyone around me, the nurses and doctors and frantic family members. I remember standing there feeling completely empty

“Take me with you to America, dad!” I said. Tears escape my grandmother’s eyes. “I am tired of living the gypsy life!” Sobs thunder out of her, spill over the banks. During this time, my nine-year-old vocabulary putrefied. Due to my father’s recent victory of the Visa Lottery, and victory in holding his family’s one-way ticket to freedom, I became accustomed to and regurgitated my parent’s discontent with Romania. Despite having the opportunity to stay with my grandparents and knowing that my bond