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Exploratory Essay My mother has taught me early on that women can do anything men can do, but then again, she also never worked a day in her life. My father was always the strong hard working dad, he was a great example to my brother who is 2 years younger than me. My mother never really had a drive like the one I have in me, I strive for success for my four children and well she was always laid in bed demanding things from her bedside. What I remember about my childhood is how she would teach us how to clean and cook. My sisters and I would have to wake up every day before school just to clean the house and make breakfast, she taught us early on how to make tortillas, but the handmade ones because she would say that store bought were for lazy people. …show more content…
Now as an adult I think back at my mother’s words, they constantly play back in my head she would say “women are meant for the house, and men are meant to be at work”, then she would say we can do anything a man can do so I was pretty confused. I didn’t understand it so much, but I would go with it because if I didn’t agree with her we would get back handed. The abuse as children went on for years especially when my father went to prison for selling drugs, he felt as if he had to make more money for us because my mom would threaten to leave him if he didn’t find a way. So, he sold drugs for couple of years and it was great we got everything we wanted, but at the expense of my father living in fear of getting
...h conclusion about my struggles with my mother. Mothers (and fathers) do what they can with what they know. That is all. They believe that they are doing the right thing, and we as children must learn to appreciate that.
I have always grown up around the influence of hard work. My mother and father’s life together began off to a rough start. My mother got pregnant at the age of 20 with my brother. Her family was not very supportive of it; therefore, she was on her own. She used to tell me about how she would sit and cry in a one bedroom apartment that she lived in with my brother wondering what she was going to do. Although she had to grow up faster than she
Through most of my time in high school, I always found myself writing more of exploratory writing for two simple reasons; it took a shorter amount of time, and relating writing to my personal experiences was something I had no need to look up. Exploratory writing is a time to take advantage to relate your own personal experiences and an attempt to make a connection with a certain reading. The experiences you have will not be exactly the same as you’re classmate and might be very enjoyable to read. Lamott and Hairston both use explanatory and exploratory writing in their essays by explaining the techniques of what good writers do and applying their own personal experiences. By applying both explanatory and exploratory in their essay they are able to provide the reader with new ideas they can adopt to improve their writing skills.
A mother and a father figure will always give you love and affection while the mother teaches you morality, the father teaches you discipline. People see ho...
She never told me how to dress a certain way in order to keep up with the latest fashions. She never told me how to wear my hair in a way that the other girls wouldn't make fun of me for. She never even told me how to apply makeup to my adolescent face. I don't think she ever knew how to put it on herself. My mother was always a simple woman. A brush of mascara, a touch of the gloss, and she was done.
Head to head hits are still a prevalent issue in the Nfl. Should head to head hits lead to an ejection from the game? If a player in college football commits an intentional helmet to helmet hit, the penalty is an ejection. If college football can input this penalty, couldn’t the NFL? We see that former football players who suffered many concussions over their playing careers, have long lasting effects. Some current players feel as though that they can’t control where their hits land and injuries are just a part of the game. Some fans feel as though all these penalties are taking the fun away the game. Former NFL players are an example of what helmet to helmet hits can do.
Growing up, my dad worked at a local aluminum plant and my mother was a stay at home parent. They both had very different parenting styles. I was the third child out of four, three girls, two boys (one that lived with us and the other we never saw). My father was more
In summary reflexivity relates to judgements made from one's own personal experiences. By being reflexive and recognising that I am part of the research data and through exploring my own practice with the intention of understanding my practice, I show how I am part of the research. With this new knowledge I continue knowing differently that my story is my data and as such the application of reflection/reflexivity, in such a way as Bolton, Freire and Cuncliffe suggests, will make it all the richer and more valuable.
When I was born, my mother breast fed me for two weeks, I stayed in the hospital room with her instead of going to the nursery, and she was home with me for the first five years of my life. My father worked and my mother tended to the home, with the help of her mother and grandmother. I ate Gerber baby jarred food and my mother read to me every night. My family did not adhere to many other cultural norms however. It was culturally expected that a husband and wife would have a home, with stable jobs and an established relationship before having children. My father was eight years my mother’s senior, and my mother was only 18 when I was born. My mother never earned her high school diploma. My parents were married the month before I was born. My father worked in construction and had a criminal record. Every single one of these descriptions violates the cultural norms of where I grew up in North Carolina. Although my story starts to sound a lot like a Lifetime movie, my mother defied all odds to provide a safe and secure haven for me. “When they sense that a parent is consistent and dependable, they develop a sense of basic trust in the parent” (Crain, 283). I could rely on my parents and trust that they would be there to take care of me which lead to my development of “the core ego strength of this period: hope” which emerges from the child developing a favorable balance of trust over mistrust. “Hope is the expectation that despite frustrations, rages, and disappointments, good things will happen in the future” (Crain, 285). My mother is the living embodiment of that sentiment. As early as I can remember, I can remember her insistence that as long as we were together, we were
“Choose something that you’re good at.” This was the advice given to me by my mom before applying to college. “Choose a major that will get you a good job, but also something that you like.” These are the words that came out of her mouth; these are words that say one thing but really mean another.
Possessing an underutilized brain is like making a billion dollars, but simply hiding the money away forever: there are so many opportunities that stem from it, but it is worthless because it is never put to use. Rene Descartes felt this way himself, as he said, “It is not enough to have a good mind. The main thing is to use it well.” I wholeheartedly agree with this quote; a mind is the most precious of commodities but one’s brain is not employed, than it is as useless as a pile of dirt. Still, not only does one have to make use of their mind, it must be in a way that can benefit society. Only than has one truly “used it well.” Despite what some may believe, it is not enough to simply be intelligence; one must use it to make something of themselves.
The first reason why my mother has shaped me into the person that I am today is because my mother wants me to become a good woman. My mom teaches me to be a responsible young woman. For example, my mom asks me to do chores around the house for her. This has impacted me because my
It 's ludicrously ironic now, but as child her logic made perfect sense, and I reasoned myself out of blaming her. She was right. I was wrong. She only mocked me subjected me to strange accusations and verbal cruelty, and we had always done something, anything wrong. After years of constant uncertainty, belittling, and the mounting awareness that my mother was losing her grip on ordinary behavior, I was beginning to realize that I had been afraid. Without a trusted adult telling me in a multitude of ways that everything I did was suspect and somehow bad, I regained a shred of emotional security. I fully realize how strange it is that it took me so long to realize this was a form of abuse, but anything can seem normal when you don 't know anything different. It 's now clear why I looked forward so passionately to overnight visits with friends, and why watching them interact with their mothers, easily, lovingly, and unafraid, made me feel so cold and so perplexing ly angry. I was jealous of any parent-child relationship that wasn 't rooted in fear and uncertainty. On my darker days, I still feel that twinge of envy. Today I speak to my mother only sometimes, and never in any great depth. There 's nothing below the surface that would be pleasant to
Attorney Ms. Dwyer-Jones was arrested for driving under the influence after suffering an alcoholic relapse following her father’s death and an ongoing divorce. The next year, over the course of three months, she was suspended the for failing to register and complete (CLE) credits, yet suspension she continued to practice law. The same month she was arrested for another DUI, possession of a controlled substance and resisting arrest. Shortly after she was arrested for driving near the courthouse with a suspended license and violating the conditions of her parole.
My mother was taking care of me, and my three other siblings all alone by herself. When my father was living my mother only had one job, but now she had to work more. She had a massive impact on our lives by making sure we had everything we needed. Because I was the oldest of my siblings, I felt like I was a parent. At just eight years old, I had to skip school just to make sure my siblings had someone to look after them while my mother worked. I was obligated to feed them, give them baths, and put clothes on them. It was very difficult, but I knew my mother had to pay bills, and take care of us and herself, so I knew she couldn’t afford a babysitter. When times got very tough, my mom would get stressed out and take it out on us by throwing tantrums, hollering at us and beating on us. I didn’t have a choice but to encourage my mother, and be the one to push her to not give