Personal Narrative- Accepting a New Dad
Tim is my second dad’s name. My mom brought him home for my brother and me to meet when I was in first grade. I think I was six. I didn’t like Tim at first because he was shorter than my mother, and I doubted he would stay. My mom and I left the first dad when she was eight months pregnant with my brother. Although I was only three years old, I remember the night. I was eating those silly orange peanut-shaped circus candies. To this day, I cannot tolerate the taste of them. My mom told him she was leaving. She was tired of him being gone on the road with his big rig and of the other woman calling late in the night claiming that he was the father of her daughter. She didn’t yell and she didn’t cry. She stood with her pregnant stomach pressed against his flat stomach and told him, "Nobody will ever love you the way I do." I don’t remember his reaction. I do know he didn’t apologize to my mother, and he didn’t mention my unborn brother or me in his conversation.
The trip from Wisconsin to my grand parents’ house in Ingomar, Montana was a long one. My mother’s stomach was big and bumped against the steering wheel when she got in and out of the car on the many stops we made at gas stations. Somewhere between the border of Montana and North Dakota, we ran out of potato chips and soda. I was hungry and wanted to eat. When I told my mom, she apologized and explained we were out of money. I looked in her purse. She had a piece of spearmint gum, a penny, and her checkbook. I put the gum in my mouth and asked her, "Why can’t you write a check?"
"Because there is no money in the bank," was her response. This didn’t make sense to me. If she had checks, she had money, and what did the bank ha...
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...h hopes of collecting the insurance money after the accident. Because he never paid child support, the money he was supposed to collect went to us. This irritated him, and he called my mother and finally agreed to exchange his signature on the adoption papers for the money. My mom got his signature, my brother and I got Tim’s last name, but he never got our money.
Tim is my Dad’s name, and I found him at the circus amidst the stickiness of cotton candy. I realized him among complicated mathematical equations. I recognized him the afternoon he picked me up from school in a cement truck. I accepted him when he held my hand as we left the court house on the day he adopted my brother and me. It no longer mattered to me that the first dad didn’t want me. This man loved me as his daughter, and I loved him as my father. On this day, I realized every girl needs her Dad.
Bilingual teaching in American schools is it good, bad, or both? Who is right in this national debate? Both sides make some impressive arguments for their side of the issue. Even the government has mixed issues when it comes to bilingual teaching. However, the government has shown their views in their budgets and their law making. Another question comes up with the bilingual teaching is should America make English its official language? Some say there is no need for it, and yet 22 states as of 1996 declared English their official language. Looking into some of these issues may bring some insight as to what the problem may be.
I do not have any memories of my own father as a child. I met him when I was about fourteen years old. My mother and grandmother, with the help of my uncles and aunt, raised me. Although I had strong positive male role models in my life, there was always the void of my father that I dealt with on a daily basis. I can remember at a young age, before blowing out the candles on my birthday cake, I would wish that my father would show up to my party. I had elaborate daydreams of him coming back into my life and doing things with me like I saw on television. It never happened. While walking to the train station one evening my uncle casually said to me “there’s your father” as if I saw him on an everyday basis. I didn’t...
Breastfeeding is the most protective, nutritional, and natural way to provide nourishment to infants. Human milk contains several nutrients including: vitamins, proteins, lipids, carbohydrates and minerals. These nutrients are imperative for an infant’s developmental growth. Human milk also reduces the risk of developing morbidities, especially within premature infants. Premature infants, who are more prone to infection due their immune systems, benefit from human milk. Compared to artificial formulas, human milk provides antibodies and other beneficial nutrients to help with the development of the infant.
When visiting just about any school across America, students who attend come from all over the globe. This raises the question across America about bilingual education. This can create many challenges in and out of the classroom. The classroom should be a safe place for all students regardless of what native language they speak. In the essay Lost in translation written by Eva Hoffman, describes a foreign student who tries hard to fit in. Instead, Eva begins to feel angry, hurt and confused because people laugh at her. In Guiding Principles for Dual Language Education by Elizabeth R. Howard, Julie Sugarman, Donna Christian Center for Applied Linguistics Kathryn J. Lindholm-Leary San José State University David Rogers Dual Language Education of New Mexico. Guiding principles gives great ideas to educators to stop kids from making other students feel the way that Eva felt. After reading several articles about bilingual education, it is evident that all children in school should learn English but never lose their native language. When all the students speak one language, students will be less likely to make fun of each other. A good educator should learn enough foreign languages to aid them in effective communication in their classroom although; if an educator does not speak a foreign language, they should recruit within the classroom students to be peer mentors. However, a teacher should be willing to listen and encourage the students. Above all a good educator should be a good role model to their students by respecting their heritage and their language.
...et educated so there is a chance that future generations can benefit from this great art that is slowly fading away. This simple choice of lifestyle can make a world of difference for all. With the protection of breast milk the overall focus on disease, illness and sickness would be half the battle. Try something new to help out everyone in this part and other parts of the world by simply doing one part.
With the arrival of a newborn, parents are immediately faced with myriad of decisions. Should they use cloth or store-bought diapers, co-sleeping or a crib, and what parent gets what shift during the night are just a few. However, one of the most important and more personal choices is between a formula based diet or breastfeeding for their baby to receive his or her required nourishment. It has been proven time and time again that the benefits of breast milk over formula are numerous: they include health, emotional, mental, and financial benefits with the convenience of non-preparation. Breastfeeding is not only the most natural way to provide nutrition for a baby it’s also the most complete way. These benefits do not only benefit the baby, but they benefit the mother as well.
Most people would see growing up without a father as troublesome, lonely, pitiful, and hard. Well, for the most part it’s true; it could certainly be all of these things at times, but other times you forget that people even have fathers until you go to a friend’s house, or a cousin’s house and look at their big, happy, prosperous family. Or when someone in the desk next to you is talking to their table-neighbor, standing by the cubbies, in the bathroom stall, talking about what their “daddy” just bought them. One time, I made a friend. She was adopted, and she had no parents and that was when I knew that I didn’t have it as bad as I very well could have. I grew up with a mom who worked herself to the bone day-by-day at a fast-food restaurant,
A Defining Moment with Dad My father is a gentle and polite person with an impressive career and sporting background. However, he has had to endure a form of early-onset dementia for well over a decade. His prime caregiver is my mother, who we believe has managed to slow my father’s deterioration by keeping him mentally stimulated with a pre-arranged activity every day of the week. Of course, this strategy also cares for my mother, as it gives me peace of mind that my father has a reason to get up each day.
Love has many forms and can be expressed in many ways. The way a person expresses their love is dependent on their personality. Some people’s love is passionate and fiery, for others it is more reserved. Though a love can be expressed differently, this does not mean the people involved love each other any less. There are countless novels that focus on the love between characters, and each character loves differently. In Jane Eyre, Mr. Rochester and Jane have an impassioned affair, this affair is cut short by Jane’s realization that Mr.Rochester already has ties to another woman. In Pride and Prejudice, it is clear that Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy love each other very deeply, as Mr. Darcy is able to overcome his doubts about Elizabeth’s family, and his own timidity, and marry his true love. Though their romance is more reserved, the love that Elizabeth and Darcy share is no weaker than that of Jane and Mr.Rochester. The way that Bronte and Austen approach the theme of love, and the styles of characterization they use, define what the novels becomes. Though they share a common theme, each novelist approaches the subject differently, by the way they use characterization to create characters that contrastingly react to situations.
Imagine growing up without a father. Imagine a little girl who can’t run to him for protection when things go wrong, no one to comfort her when a boy breaks her heart, or to be there for every monumental occasion in her life. Experiencing the death of a parent will leave a hole in the child’s heart that can never be filled. I lost my father at the young of five, and every moment since then has impacted me deeply. A child has to grasp the few and precious recollections that they have experienced with the parent, and never forget them, because that’s all they will ever have. Families will never be as whole, nor will they forget the anguish that has been inflicted upon them. Therefore, the sudden death of a parent has lasting effects on those
The afternoon was slowly fading into the evening and I had gone the whole day without the figure of my aspiration, my father. I impatiently paced the floor in front of the door like a stalking cat waiting to pounce on its prey. The thoughts of wrestling my father and hear those words of affirmation, “You got me! Mercy! I give up!” filled my head. My father was obviously faking it but there was something about his words that have such power over a young boys life. Mothers are sources of comfort and safety for a young boy but it is the father that defines the identity of a young boy, the father bestows manhood on the boy.
Then the phone rang and Dad answered it. It was hard to tell what the conversation was about, it did not last long and Dad didn’t say much. When he hung up he was quiet. Then Mom asked, “Who was that, honey?” Blunt and to the point he said, “Grandma,” (his mom) “Grandpa got sick last night.” Suddenly I was not hungry any more. “What’s that mean?” Mom asked, taking the words right out of my mouth. Dad did not really know. All Grandma said was that Grandpa got up in the night, went to the bathroom, and then yelled for help before collapsing. She called 911 and an ambulance came and got him. From the hospital in Spirit Lake he was life-flighted to Sioux Falls.
My mom after her first relationship with Carlos’ father, she wasn’t very easy to get. But after months of trying my mother gave my father a chance, and things got extremely busy. My parents has three kids with Carlos that makes four of us altogether. Carlos, Jose, Gabriela, and yours truly Manuel. Before I was born my parents moved into various apartments back and forth, but they couldn’t find the right place to call home. Until one day after my sister’s baptism, my father surprised my family and everyone else with a brand new home that he had under his name. A year and half past by and on May 22, 1997 I was born and I was known to be the best baby
As a thirteen year old, I became very curious. I knew my parents had their share of issues, but I never understood why. I had lived in Texas my whole life then moved to Chicago, Illinois for my dad’s job when I was nine. Over the three year period of living there, I never saw much of my dad. I knew he loved me,
One beautiful day that summer, I was playing outside with my friends when my mom called for me to come home. I did not want to abandon my guard post at the neighbor's tree house so I decided to disregard her order. I figured that my parents would understand my delima and wouldn't mind if I stayed out for another two or three hours. Unfortunately, they had neglected to inform me that my grandparents had driven in from North Carolina, and we were supposed to go out for a nice dinner. When I finally returned, my father was furious. I had kept them from going to dinner, and he was simply not happy with me. "Go up to your room and don't even think about coming downstairs until I talk to you."