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Boxing with My Father
My father was 30 years old when I was born. The fact meant nothing to me for most of my young life, but took on a special meaning one day when I was fourteen. It was the day he decided to teach me to box.
You might think that transmitting this skill was evidence my father and I had a close relationship, but our bond was distant, ephemeral, and bound together by a single if resilient thread. My parents had divorced when I was a kid, and my father had “visitation rights.” He’d show up at our front door every other Sunday and take me out with him. Our destination might be the zoo, a park, a baseball game or, more usually, his house in Far Rockaway, a half-hour drive from my mother’s place in Brooklyn. But it wasn’t where we ended up that elated me. It was getting there that made it a thrill.
He wasn’t like the resident fathers of my neighborhood friends. Some seemed accepting and resigned that they had lost their youthful vigor. They worked in banks or delivered the mail. Others tried to maintain a certain urban toughness, but their deportment brought the image of discomfiting coarseness to my mind. I wasn’t too fond of either variety. On weekdays, around six, I’d see all of them amble home toward my apartment building, shoulders hung low, a folded copy of the Daily News pinched between thumb and forefinger.
My father’s energy was of an entirely different nature. He was quick, strong, and lean, with sloping shoulders and a narrow waist. He had a certain grace of movement that made me feel secure, even pleasurable. Sometimes he’d visit after coming off work at the Brillo Soap Pad factory where he was employed as a machinist, and he seemed to be revved up enough to do a second shift. The way he talke...
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...aying a Puerto Rican father trying to raise a son. Seeing the famous actor in person—without the intermediary of the camera—gave him a different demeanor. He moved about the stage in quick yet graceful strides. Suddenly I had a eureka moment. DeNiro on stage was just like my father: same movement, same stature, same speech. I turned to my mother whose eyes were focused on the performance.
“Mother,” I said. “Doesn’t he remind you of my father?”
My mother looked at me, then to the stage to render her opinion.
“Yes,” she said. “He does. Like your father.”
It felt good to feel my father’s presence once again, even if it was second-hand. Of course, it would have been much more fulfilling to have had that conversation with him, the one where he’d tell me what it was like in the old days. But, like so many people both today and back then, I take what I can get.
...e treated his family. The kids were raised in an environment of fear and punishment. This affected every relationship, even with other children, they had established. Being bound to one’s culture is not necessarily a bad thing. The kids are disciplined and respectful, at least in the presence of other adults. The problem with the father was not understanding that some values are expired and do not fit society's norms. Traditions that bring families together should be kept not the opposite. Since society's norms are constantly changing, we have to keep traditions alive that correlate. Good traditions and cultural values should be passed on from generation to generation not the traditions that bring children down.
At a young age the narrator thrives off the excitement of wrestling with his father, not only from the thrill of competition but pride for having such a strong father figure. “This ritual of father-son competition in fact had started early in my life” (Kennedy 139). The author develops the narrator at a young age, showing his naivety and excitement in little things such as wrestling. Although the narrator would lose at arm wrestling he would: “…only giggle, happy to have such a strong father” (Kennedy 139). The narrator did not put much thought into wrestling with his father, he only saw it as bonding time. Since the narrator is still young, he accepts that this is the only level from which he would connect with his father, slowly though, his feelings begin to change. As the narrator beings to grow older he wouldn’t “…giggle anymore, at least not around my father” (Kennedy 139). The same activity that the narrator found enjoyment in was getting dull. He was expecting more from his father. The narrator and his father had reached a point in their relationship where the narrator was beginning to surpass his father. “Now my father is
“Who was the most racist in that situation? Was it the white man who was too terrified to confront his black neighbors on their rudeness? Was it the black folks who abandoned their mattress on their curb? … Or was it all of us, black and white, passively revealing that, despite our surface friendliness, we didn’t really care about one another?” He never blames the black neighbors for their disregard of the mattress because their black, but sounds aware of the stereotyping and how he comes off addressing it. He also knows how much he stands out in the community as a minority, wondering what the cops would say to him, “ ‘Buddy,’ the cops would say. ‘You don’t fit the profile of the neighborhood.” Despite his pride in his actions of disposing of the mattress, the mistreatment by his black neighbors comes off as an unfortunate, but expected, consequence, “I knew the entire block would shun me. I felt pale and lost, like an American explorer in the
As a result of the Great Recession of 2007 to 2009, the United States government implemented various fiscal policies in an effort to stimulate the economy. How the government responded as well as how those responses will affect the U.S. economy into the future are the focus of a proposed research study. In order to ensure an appropriate focus for the proposed research study, problems in existing literature must be evaluated.
males dealing with family, sexuality and the harsh reality of living in the urban ghetto. Young
Yunior’s fathers only concern was obtaining the “American Dream” job security, financial stability, and owning his own home. Yunior’s childhood memory of his father are vague; they have no bond or connection, to Yunior he’s just a stranger. “ He’d come to our home house in Santo Domingo in a busted up taxi and the gifts he had brought us were small things-toys guns and tops-that we were too old for, that we broke right away.” (Diaz, 129). For a young man growing up without a father figure has a profound effect on them that lasts way into manhood. “Boys need a father figure to learn how to be a man, without having this influence in their lives, boys are at risk of growing into men who have problems with behaviors, emotional stability, and relationships with both significant others and their own children.”
Kirkpatrick, S. A., & Locke, E. A. (2001). Leadership: Do traits Matter? Academy of Management Executive,5,, 48-60.
Ingram, R., Scutchfield, F. D., & Costich, J. F. (2015). Government, law, and public health practice: Public Health Departments and Accountable Care Organizations: Finding common ground in Population Health. American Journal of Public Health, 105(5), 840-846 7p. doi:10.2105/AJPH.2014.302483
The poem His stillness by Sharon Olds gave her a definite understanding of the man that she called “father.” Olds grew up in an abusive family home because her dad was always known as an alcoholic. Because of her dad’s habit, created hard living environments for her and she wished that her parents never got married. Whenever liquor was in her dad’s system, he was unemotional making life for Olds hard. She never described the things that he did to her. The visit to the doctor’s office made her opened up to her dad. She saw her dad as lovely and caring family man and she never imagine him being the man that he was at the doctor’s office. He did not overreacted when he heard news; instead he was calm and accepted the news. She felt tremendously sad for her dad and from there now she started noticing the man she never knew. Olds and her dad bond grew stronger at the doctor’s office. The man she had always known for his abusive behavior turned out the most caring man in the world.
The role of the states in protecting and promoting the health of the population is broad and complex, but can be described within six broad functions: (1) guardians of the public’s health, (2) purchasers of healthcare servi...
The story begins as the boy describes his neighborhood. Immediately feelings of isolation and hopelessness begin to set in. The street that the boy lives on is a dead end, right from the beginning he is trapped. In addition, he feels ignored by the houses on his street. Their brown imperturbable faces make him feel excluded from the decent lives within them. The street becomes a representation of the boy’s self, uninhabited and detached, with the houses personified, and arguably more alive than the residents (Gray). Every detail of his neighborhood seems designed to inflict him with the feeling of isolation. The boy's house, like the street he lives on, is filled with decay. It is suffocating and “musty from being long enclosed.” It is difficult for him to establish any sort of connection to it. Even the history of the house feels unkind. The house's previous tenant, a priest, had died while living there. He “left all his money to institutions and the furniture of the house to his sister (Norton Anthology 2236).” It was as if he was trying to insure the boy's boredom and solitude. The only thing of interest that the boy can find is a bicycle pump, which is rusty and rendered unfit to play with. Even the “wild” garden is gloomy and desolate, containing but a lone apple tree and a few straggling bushes. It is hardly the sort of yard that a young boy would want. Like most boys, he has no voice in choosing where he lives, yet his surroundings have a powerful effect on him.
The health care system in the United States encompasses so many individuals, businesses, and interest groups. Also, it can be difficult to pinpoint the most optimal approach to serve everyone’s unique needs and wants. This has led to a major health-care crisis in the society. As a matter of fact, the effect of the health-care crisis in the American society has been a longtime situation, and an effective policy response must focus on what is most enriching in the society: aiming to improve the overall quality of the system and positively impact the health status of all citizens, while subsequently minimizing costs.
Health is by far the most important thing for a human being, so every penny invested on it has to work. This essay is about the study of the current state of American health reforms and why they are desperately required. Unfortunately things are not that bright as they might seem, an American investing most of their money on health care is basically not getting the level of health care they deserves. With all the investment in the medical field and all the advancements of medical domains, government should be providing best health care in the world for its people.
Looking back at my past, I recall my mother and father’s relationship as if it were yesterday. I am only four years old, small and curious; I tended to walk around my home aimlessly. I would climb book shelves like a mountain explorer venturing through the Himalayans, draw on walls to open windows to my own imagination, or run laps around the living room rug because to me I was an Olympic track star competing for her gold medal; however my parents did not enjoy my rambunctious imagination. My parents never punished me for it but would blame each other for horrible parenting skills; at the time I did not understand their fights, but instead was curious about why they would fight.
The air is really fresh, and the wind is comfortable. Grandma usually opened the window during the daytime; I still remembered that feeling when the sunshine came in house and scatter. I walking among those numerous grand trees and admire colored leaves on the trees and on the ground. I miss that feeling of calmness and stability of the world around. I wish I could return the reality of those feelings once more. Memories in mind and never forget about happiness of staying in my grandmother’s house. Grandparent’s time-honored gift to their grandchildren is their unconditional love, unfettered by schedules, routines or commitments. They reinforced their grandchildren’s sense of security and self-value.