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Domestic violence within families
American sociological review domestic violence
+ effects of the war on family
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My family has been through war but I was too young to remember. However, I always had this visual of me being tied on someone’s back. I can never tell who that person is but it seems like we were feeling from the war going on. I remember hearing guns shots as we walked towards safety. When I spoke to my aunt she told me that we immigrated to another country until the war ended. However, according to my aunt, my family faced challenges attempting to return back to our country. She said we had to prove that we were from Liberia. It was difficult but eventually we were able to return back home. My aunt’s husband tries to sexually assault me, I have been separated from my family for years and I am doing everything on my own. However, despite my
As I walk to the store to pick up snacks for the next half of the super bowl, I am trying to make it quick. I finally arrive at the store and quickly get my two favorite items, skittles and an ice tea. Thinking to myself that this is all I need, not knowing that it would be my last meal. On the walk back home, I have a feeling that I am being followed. I speed up. I turn around to find that a grown Hispanic man, mid-age, and heavily built is in fact, following me. In my head, I just want to make it home safely. Every move I make, he makes the same moves. Finally I turn around, quite nervous, to see if there was a problem. Next thing I know, we are on the ground fighting. Here I am, seventeen years old, up against a man in his thirties. As we fight, I know that this situation isn’t going to end well. Last thing I remember is being shot in my stomach. While I lay in the grass taking my last breaths, all I could think is “Why me”?
Every sense I was a little girl my grandfather would tell me about his experiences during WWII as, Elie Wiesel did in his essay “A God Who Remembers”.My grandfather would tell everyone his story his grandchildren,friends, family and our neighbors(even if they didn’t understand him). I remember one day my grandfather asked me to sit down with him, he wanted to tell me his story. Even though I 've listen to his story many of times, I had this feeling that I should stay and listen to him. While everyone else was downstairs and playing I sat with my grandfather and listened diligently. This was the last conversation I remember having with my grandfather before he wasn 't able to speak anymore, because of his sickness. He told me about how he had to hide, so that the Germans would not find him.
The year is 1944, and you are a Jewish teenager. You are trapped in a Jewish concentration camp called Auschwitz. You know that it is one of the biggest killing centers for the Holocaust, but you are praying that American soldiers rescue you before you die. You are surrounded by other people, some you know and some you don’t. You were seperated from your family years ago, not knowing where they are now. You try not to accept the fact that they are most likely dead, but there isn’t much of a chance that they survived. Food doesn’t come to you often, so you have lost a lot of weight. You are very weak and it is hard for you to stand up due to your legs aching. The memories of what has happened and what is still to come will never leave your mind. Your best friend was killed right in front of you, and the only reason
I was interupted by a man who cleared his throat. I turned around to see what was going on, he growled so I turned back around. I was now terrified. I noticed that my father had fallen to the back of the pack I was curious as to why he did such a thing. I was finding the trip very difficult as my legs hurt when I took a step. I heard the same man clear his throat I looked behind me and I saw his machete unsheathed and raised in the air, I knew this was not going to end well for me. The man slashed at me with his machete. The pot I was holding fell and broke. I was running to my father and while I was doing so I cried, “My father, they have killed me!” as approached him Okonkow, my father slashed at me with his machete.
I had to go back to my country and come back to campus really feel the change I went through during the first year in college. I had to observe and interact with the first years to perceive the similarities between them and my old self, to see how I have changed and the extent to which humans are all alike. We might face the same struggles, but the ways we deal with them vary from person to person. I will try to tell my version of growing up in Lafayette.
I am very scared I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, this morning at 5 the American guards asked my parents to evacuate the house in less than 48 hours and take our possessions. I still remember my mom saying, “Xian and Zyanku get all your belongings now! Because you know that your possessions that we leave behind will be stolen or sold by the Us guards .On the 8 December 1941 all Japanese descendants were put in a train carriage, there were 20 people in each of the carriages, the food we got was green stew and beans lots of the people in our carriage died of malnutrition, the only toilet that we could use was a bucket in the middle of the carriage. Many people died just being transported from our homes to the internments camps. After 6 long days of travelling my parents were put in a different que to us and then my brother knew that we would never see them again….……When my brother and I saw the huge barbed wire fences and armed guards we knew that we would never be able to escape. Mr Heckter was our guard he was very scary and didn’t talk much he led 10 of the children including us to dorm 51, the dorm was made out of mud our beds were made out of wood with dog blankets and a bucket for our toilet. In the morning at 5 I heard noises coming from outside and thats when I saw my mom and dad being beaten up, blindfolded and put in sliding dorms because the tried to escape, that’s when I knew it was all over because sliding dorms were where cattle were kept before they were slaughtered. I didn’t tell my brother about what I saw. At 7 Mr Hecker told us to all get up and get into our work clothes our work clothes were bright orange. The move was confusing, frustrating and confusing. All...
In the day's early morning, I went to a park in my neighborhood because my friend and I made an appointment to go to this park to play. I went to a no man's corner, where there are a lot of trees and flowers. When I was enjoying beautiful scenery, someone hugged from behind me forced me unexpectedly. On the one hand, he had pressed and held both my hands. On the other hand, he continually stroked my body. I was unable to repel. I was desperate at that time because that man's behavior was disgusting. To my horror, I could feel myself starting to cry. For his actions, I have already felt
Growing up as an only child I made out pretty well. You almost can’t help but be spoiled by your parents in some way. And I must admit that I enjoyed it; my own room, T.V., computer, stereo, all the material possessions that I had. But there was one event in my life that would change the way that I looked at these things and realized that you can’t take these things for granted and that’s not what life is about.
I weak up my grandmother house. Birds chirping, squirrels running around and kids screaming and laughing as they are playing under the sun. I stepped out of the house into a beautiful shade of a green tree and his sides are natural flowers. My father, his 3 siblings, my grandmother and I seat under the tree. He said to me you will stay here for this month and help you grandmother. When school opens I will be with you here. My father went back to the other family in the refugee camp. He did show up for almost 3month. I use carried a lot, but my 2 uncle they never make any respond about it. There is no food that I can eat, my grandmother always told me to drink milk. I use said to her milk can’t be a food. I become skinny and week, because no food to eat. I don’t sleep during time, because I use think a
A calm crisp breeze circled my body as I sat emerged in my thoughts, hopes, and memories. The rough bark on which I sat reminded me of the rough road many people have traveled, only to end with something no one in human form can contemplate.
Almost every day throughout high school I experienced something that I could not identify. It was over a year since I had graduated until could put words to emotion. I discovered that I was not free in my own mind. I was in a prison. One that I couldn't touch and for many years I could not see. After several visits to counselors and therapists I finally had the words to describe what my experience was.
It all comes back in flashes, the agonizing hunger, the deaths, and the lack of emotions. Suddenly I was back in that place, back in the crowded bunkers. Scavenging for food that I know I wouldn’t be able to find, giving up everything I owned, which wasn’t much, for an extra ration of bread. Everytime I close my eyes I see the smoke from the crematory and the bodies of the deceased scattered around my feet. Stepping over the bodies was something I got used to, but the images of the dead will never leave my mind. I haven’t talked about my experience to anyone but my therapist and my brother, but I feel that I need to approach my coping methods in a different way, facing what happened and telling my story.
Thumbs Out A girlfriend of mine once defended me to her father by saying, calmly, “Not everyone who wanders is lost.” The dad kicked me out of the house anyway. But the damage had been done. Not everyone who wanders is lost.
I was awoken to a loud knock on the door Then all of a sudden we were pushed to the floor They yelled at us and made us pack our bags We were given yellow star shaped tags If we don't get out of here we will die
Writing 1: Please provide a statement that addresses your reasons for transferring and the objectives you hope to achieve. You can type directly into the box, or you can paste text from another source. (250-650 words)