I remembered the time when my mother told me that we came to Australia by boat to seek asylum. She told me that I was two years old when our family arrived to Australia and at the time she was four months pregnant with my little brother. She told me that my dad was one of the richest man in the town… She said “one day at night, your dad came back home aflutter from the town and woke me up while you were in your bedroom sleeping. He told me to pack my things and leave the house immediately. I was so scared and trembled and had no idea what was going on. I asked him what is going on and he said that the terrorists are killing people everywhere with no hesitation. He told me that we should leave the house. I went in your bedroom and took you from …show more content…
He drove us to some point, then the car ran out of gas. He stayed in the boat because, there was war, children were kidnaped, women were raped and people were dying day and night. He was so worried about us, I never wanted to leave him behind and never wanted to die without him and you and your bro. However, he insisted and promised me that he would join us in Australia”. Furthermore, she told me how we suffered in the boat and what we faced. She said “we spent three months in the boat from to the Christmas Island. People thrust us; you cried so many times, I spent days in the boat without eating anything and drinking. All I could think of was you and your safety. People were talking but I could not understand anything they were saying. When we got into Christmas Island, I felt so sick because I was 7 months pregnant. Lucky us, they did not reject us and they took us into a detention centre. They gave us foods and drinks and took us to the detention centre clinic. That is where I gave birth to your little brother. We spent three good in the detention …show more content…
I was so different to everyone else. Furthermore, I remember when I first transferred from an Islamic school to a public, I honestly cried myself to bed. It was difficult. I went through my fair share of discrimination at school. I soon realised that I had control over how I felt. I learnt to be resilient. It is difficult when you are consistently portrayed as an outsider and enemy by the media. I mean I am not blood hungry. I do not dream about “wiping out” the entire human race. I want what you want, a safe environment, and shelter and education- basic and human necessities. We don’t spend every hour of he day planning our “next attack”. Islam has been hijacked, honestly. I soon realised as Margaret Thatcher once said, “no one can make you feel inferior without your consent”. I realised that I didn’t need to change, in fact, I didn’t want to. I just needed to get out of my comfort zone and become more vocal about why I did, what I did. If people didn’t understand, no problem! Agree to disagree. You don’t need to change that you are just to fit in. Trust me I
It has been too long since I last wrote to you, so I thought I would inform you on momentous events that happened in my life in the last little while. The previous time I heard from you was when Gabriel turned three. I can’t believe he is about to become a teenager now. My goodness, time flies by so fast. I was so ecstatic when I saw your prior letter arrive in my mail.
At the same time: Snap-Whoosh-Growl-Snap-Whoosh-Growl! Return with a fierceness, causing the rest of the men to separate into two groups with some moving to the left in search of the origin of the beastly sounds and the others moving to the right, combining their numbers with those searching for their missing brethren, while Gottlieb stays behind.
The other night I had a dream. I dreamed of a boy whom I had known a long time ago, but since then he had disappeared completely from my life. In my dream, I saw him sitting beside my bed and talking to me. He told me about the trip that he had taken with his parents, his two older brothers, and his sister when he was seven years old. He told me how his parents had been victimized by a man who knew about his parents’ desperate attempt to flee from Vietnam, so he took advantage of them.
I'm currently walking along a long and barren road approaching a small forest. Of course, no one would recognize where I am. Of course not I'm obviously somewhere where even I wouldn't recognize, thrown into a place against my own will. I guess I can blame my own hubris for this one. “HEY I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUCKING FUN, don't be a condescending asshole.”
During my junior year of high school, I was transferred from the Boces Program to East Meadow High School. This was an exciting time in my life! I was finally going to attend classes with "hearing" students. So many emotions filled my head. I was happy but, on the other hand, I was scared. I thought these kids would tease me and not accept me for who I am. When I went into the classroom, every student looked at me as if I were different, but they liked me anyway. Much to my surprise, within a couple of days I had made friends. I quickly realized that they didn't think of or treat me as I were different. They saw me for who I am on the inside, not a person with hearing aids on the outside.
When faced with a life altering situation although Molly’s characteristics and personality aid her in courageously defying them, the effects of facing this traumatic event will lead to long term psychological repercussions. When severe harm is inflicted on a person’s psyche, it is viewed as an emotional trauma (Levers, 2012). The emotional harm inflicted on Molly’s psyche originates from different dimensions; like her upbringing, her trauma is multidimensional too. As a child of the Indigenous community, whose ancestors and elders were killed violently in inter-group conflicts, and whose children were forcefully removed from families, Molly is would experience intergenerational trauma (Atkinson, 2002). Intergenerational trauma is trauma passed down from one generation to another; as a close knitted community group, the grief experienced by family members of losing their loved ones, would have been transferred across generations (Atkinson,
A yellow skinned man wearing a gas mask and orange prison clothes stands in a large glass box. Another man walks in wearing a tailored suit, black tie, gasses, and a name tag. He sits down in a chair. “Now lets see what your in for... arson, tampering with lethal chemical compounds, bank robbery, and and 24 acounts of murder, and that's just in the past week, It seems like you're going to be here for a while.” He fixes his glasses.
I woke up screaming. I didn’t sleep last night, and decided to take a nap, hoping the nightmares wouldn’t come haunt me again—but they did, and they always do. There was a faint orange glow coming from the window. The sun is setting already?
The security and safety she experiences are luxuries that the aboriginal people of New South Wales were incapable of having. When she finally uncovers her father’s secret, Sarah is stunned. The image of her father in her mind is shattered, much like the image of Australia its proud citizens have. She encountered the same shock that many others had when she learned of the carnage and destruction that forged her prosperous homeland. However, instead of distancing herself from the blame, she understood the role she played in the mistreatment of Aboriginals.
I don't know what I did wrong. I asked Amir agha, but he said I hadn't done anything. I would have stopped doing it, then maybe Father and I wouldn't have left. Before the kite tournament, Amir was my best friend, and we would always play together, but then he didn't want me around any more. I don't know why.
The glistening sea shimmers in the background, you look to left to see the perfect image of a family. You have an overwhelming sense of love, a feeling you thought you would never experience again. Then, the terrifying, haunting secrets of your past take over and you realize things will not be able to stay this way. Safe Haven, written by Nicholas Sparks, takes you along the trials of young Katie as she tries to develop new relationships and start a new life. This heart- wrenching novel is perfect for older teens and young adults.
“Just… we have to do something first. You and me, we need to work this out. We need to get this whole thing fixed.” “... How can I help you?” “We're going to find the fucker that did this and put a bullet through his head.”
It was a cold October afternoon in 1996, and I raced down the stairs and out the front door, in an attempt to avoid my mother's questions of where I was going, with whom, and when I'd be back. I saw my friend Kolin pull up in his rusted, broken-down gray van, and the side door opened as Mark jumped out and motioned for me to come. I was just about to get in when my mother called from the front doorway. She wanted to talk to me, but I didn't want to talk to her, so I hopped in pretending I hadn't heard her and told Kolin to drive off.
I was afraid that I will have no one to talk to. I was scared that when lunch time came I would have no one to sit with at the lunch table. I was scared that people would look at me different because I was a Muslim. There were so many thoughts racing through my head when I thought about high school; so I just pushed the idea in the back of my head and chose not to think about it.
I locked my door and moved my desk in front of it. I changed out of my sweater into a black jacket. I threw a few things in my bag and threw open my window. I heard my door rattling, "Suzie open this door now!" My father yelled.