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The effect of bad parenting
Effects of different parenting styles on child
Effects of different parenting styles on child
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I don’t remember what it was like before my dad tried to control my life. As far as I know it’s been that way forever. He always had a picture of this perfect girl: athletic, dressed nice all the time, posh manners, straight A’s. Basically the complete opposite of who I really am. I remember him grabbing the collar of my shirt, scolding me for speaking my mind; scolding me for wanting him to understand that I would never conform to his vision. Or another time: He took my phone away for getting a B on a quiz. That day he told me that getting anything other than an A was “unacceptable”. But the thing was that it didn’t matter how long I studied, what I got is what I got. These are only few of many incidents where he tried to control every aspect
One of my earliest memories of Grandpa begins with us driving to the Monmouth Park Racetrack. We sure did love to go to the track and root for Julie Krone or one of our other favorite jockeys. He loved challenges, and he especially loved the challenge of picking the ponies. He would read the race programs in the Asbury Park Press and usually pre-pick most of the day's favorite horses before ever leaving the house. Still, on arrival, we always bought the program and maybe a race sheet or two before entering the track grandstand. After picking up a couple of seats right around the finish line or maybe a little past it, back to figuring he'd go. As he went, grandpa would always point out the horses that had won recently or looked like they were due. "I have a feeling about this one" he'd say.
On behalf of my entire family, I want to thank all of you for your compassion and for being present here today. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Mauri-Lynne, and I'm Lionel's daughter. Dad was devoted to every one of you. We all hope that you'll share your memories of him with us, if not today then in the weeks and months to come.
I stand before you today to pay my last respects, and to say my final goodbyes, to my father Harry.
I'd like to thank you all for the outpouring of support and condolences on the loss of my beautiful son Adam. My entire family appreciates it. This is my eulogy to Adam:
The father’s upbringing was such that financial stability was the priority. The child learned that dads are busy and do not have time to spend with their children. What a devastating realization for a child to conclude. Yet like most little boys, this one wanted to grow up to be like his role model, no matter the example. During the time from childhood to adolescent, parental influence can be either beneficial or detrimental. If the parents have a stable home, clear boundaries and open communications with their teens, the transition could flow easier. The perfect father does not guarantee the child will not rebel.
Studies show that ninety percent of people born beginning in the 1970s claim to have an “extremely close” relationship with their parents. When I was younger and I would fall off my purple Barbie bike, my mother would drop what she was doing and run to my side to aid and assist me. My dad, on the other hand, did not. My dad would hold my handlebars as I would ride, soon after he would let go even after I asked him not to. Hence, he knew I would never learn to ride on my own if he continued to baby me, so each time he let go earlier and earlier. My dad did not believe in helicopter parenting or babying me; He believed in hard work and tough love. The article, “Here’s How To Deal With Millennials Who Aren’t Ready To Face Real Challenges”, from
Deep down inside, I have always known my parents are loving parents that will do anything they can to support me to prosper and succeed in life. The only problem is that my parents came from very traditional household that used the authoritarian parenting style, so that is the style they used on me. While growing up with parents using the authoritarian parenting style, I was not exposed to their warmth or nurturing side. Instead, I was taught to respect authority and traditional structure in a demanding, controlling and punitive way. This affected me in a negative way as I was expected to follow strict rules unconditionally with absolute obedience, and my parents rarely gave me choices or options as they had very high expectations of what I should be doing. For example, when I was in junior high, my parents selected all of my courses and I had no control over my school schedule. They told me that they were doing this because they knew what was good for me and what career path I should be going into in the future. However, what they did not understand at that time is that their actions lowered my self-esteem and prevented me to act independently; as a result, I never really learned how to set my own limits and personal standards until I entered my sophomore year in high school.
Such as, grounding me or taking one of my favorite items away for a certain period of time. I feel like this type of discipline has carried on throughout my life. My mother would ground me for weeks at a time, depending on the severity of my behavior, or I wouldn’t be able to watch T.V. for multiple days. As I got older it seemed like this form of discipline was more suitable for my age. I was too old to sit in a time out so instead my phone would be taken away. In these instances it occurs that the form of discipline are almost the same. I believe the old form of discipline was more than suitable to be used in these new
I grew up having more than the average kid. My parents bought me nice clothes, stereos, Nintendo games, mostly everything I needed and wanted. They supported me in everything I did. At that point in my life I was very involved with figure skating. I never cared how much of our money it took, or how much of my parents' time it occupied, all I thought about was the shiny new ice skates and frilly outfits I wanted. Along with my involvement in soccer, the two sports took most of my parents' time, and a good portion of their money. Growing up with such luxuries I began to take things for granted. I expected things, rather than being thankful for what I had and disregarded my parent's wishes, thinking only of myself. Apparently my parents recognized my behavior and began limiting my privileges. When I didn't get what I wanted I got upset and mad at my parents somehow blaming them for all my problems. Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't a bad kid, I just didn't know how else to act. I had never been exposed to anything less than what I had and didn't realize how good I had it.
Even though he may not think it, my father is one of the biggest influences in my life. We’re super similar in personality, and that causes us to butt heads and constantly argue, so he thinks that I don’t like him as much as my mom. He gets me interested in a lot of the same things that he’s interested in, like outer space, magic tricks, and reading.
Before I begin I would like to thank all of you here on behalf of my mother, my brother and myself, for your efforts large and small to be here today, to help us mark my fathers passing.
My socialization while growing up had everything to do with my parents. In my household I didn’t have just one certain style of parenting. My mother was a permissive parent, and my father was very much an authoritative dad. This was able to happen because my father travels a lot of the time and is out of the house, therefore giving me the chance take advantage of my mom being so much of a push over. When my father was gone on business I could get away with anything such as not cleaning my room, staying up as late as I wanted, and receiving anything I wanted. If my Mom did not giving in to my requests I would just throw a simple temper tantrum and five minutes later victory would be mine. On the other hand when my dad was around everything was to be done his way. If he didn’t think I needed it, I did not get it, no matter how much complaining and whining. In my Dads mind I had to deserve everything I received, if I did something wrong couple days earlier he would remind me about it as I was asking for a bike or what ever else it is I wanted. Don’t get me wrong my dad wasn’t a mean guy or an abusive father, I knew my limits and when every I would get dumb enough to cross that line, he was right there to put back in my place.
My parents followed moderately different parenting styles. My mother’s parenting style was strict and extraordinarily Authoritarian, while my dad practiced a mix of Neglectful and Authoritarian parenting. My Father was a workaholic and was not around much. During early childhood, I would be in bed by the time he arrived home from work, so I would rarely see him. He did not get involved with my schoolwork and would rarely show up to piano recitals or swim meets. The few times he did show up, he would ridicule me and tell me I should have done better. Since my
In addition to that, when it came a time for me to decide which college I should go to they want to decide for me on that too. All these things have played a huge disadvantage in my life. Because I feel far from them, I don’t feel the joy and excitement to talk to them about anything. It has also drawn me far from the family, the communication is not really there. Therefore, many times authoritarian’s parents might think their style is good, on the other hand, it actually not good because kids feel lonely, isolated, stuck and confused. Most of the time that's how I felt and continue to feel until today. All my life it has not been easy, there has been times which I have cried, I was angry and frustrated. Also, moments, where I have had some suicidal thoughts where I felt in order to have the freedom to live my life, is to take my own. As Maccoy noted authoritarian parenting style fails to explain the reasoning behind these rules. If asked to explain, the parent might simply reply, “Because I said so.” These parents have high demands but are not responsive to their children (Joseph, p.
One example of my dad making me do things I did not want to do is to play baseball. When I was young, around the age of 4 or 5, my dad had approached me and asked if I was interested in the idea of playing baseball. He had told me he enjoyed it as a kid and that I would too. I was appalled with the idea and had told him “no”. Later that day he informed me that he signed me up and that if I did not like it I had the option to