The origin of my passion for helping children emanated from my family history. I was born into a low-income family; the eldest daughter of two immigrant parents. My parents emigrated from the Dominican Republic and barely spoke English. Being a young bride, my mother had her first child when she was just fourteen years old, and subsequently, bore four more children. My father worked menial jobs to make ends meet and support the family. Unfortunately, with little education or knowledge of the English language, these jobs yielded meager monetary earnings. He worked as a paper distributor for the New York Post during the night, and Aer Lingus during the day. He regularly returned home after dinner and spent his spare time resting for the …show more content…
Each person has a distinct personality, strengths, weaknesses and goals. I often felt as if I was the black sheep of the family, frequently singled out and labeled “the favorite child,” the reason being that I was the only child that continued to further my education. I was regularly expected to succeed and was often the child my parents would compare each sibling to. Feeling like I did not have anyone to confide in, I started attending a peer-counseling group in middle school. It is here that I discovered that other children had it much worse than I did. We would disclose our feelings, and others would just listen. I started attending these groups twice a week, as they made me feel like I was in the proper place. Thenceforth, I started seeing a school counselor unaccompanied by the other children. I was able to communicate feelings that I could not disclose in the group. I revealed my fears about disappointing my parents, but I also verbalized that I was strong and independent because of them. They may not have been involved for very much of my childhood, but this only fueled my need to succeed and pursue my …show more content…
I worked as a sales associate in the Staten Island Mall in a male clothing store named Epic Designs. Every day after school I would take the city bus to work and leave when the mall closed at 10 P.M. and proceeded to take public transportation back home following a night of homework. Although during that time I would have rather been home relaxing or enjoying the company of friends, being employed at a young age instilled a whole array of positive traits and helped me to develop a broad range of beneficial attributes. Being forced to work at a young age helped me to become more independent from my parents. By using my earnings to pay for my expenses, I’ve learned how to budget and rely only on myself financially. Most children are led to believe they’re entitled to receive; it is essential to teach the value of hard work which is what my parents did. Receiving minimum wage and witnessing my managers work seven days a week for a small hourly rate to support their children, opened up my eyes to what my father was referring to as a job being significantly different in comparison to a
We are always searching for other people’s approval and acceptance. Being the middle child in my family has always felt like a competition for the attention of our parents. I lived fairly close to my elementary school growing up. I remember that every day on the walk there my mom would give me kind of a pep talk, “don’t talk to strangers” “make sure to eat and drinks lots of water” and before I left, she’d give me a blessing (she’s very religious) and the last thing she would say was “you better get straight A’s”. She used it metaphorically; meaning just the best you can be at everything you do and literally as in getting straight A’s. Being in elementary school, I didn’t get letter grades, but instead a numerical system where fours represented A’s. It was a routine that I’m very grateful I grew up with the competitive mentality, but it caused a rivalry against my brother. The moment I’d get home, I would excitedly tell my mom how my reading skills improved or a “cool” drawing I did in class. Later, my brother would come home bragging how he got an A on his history test or how he joined the soccer team. Seeing how he got more attention that day I’d strive to be superior the next day and even more involved growing up. For a second, I became unhappy being involved in so much school, I had to go to school from 8-3, had tutoring since 3-5, and practice till 7. This took a hard impact on my
My passion and admiration for the healthcare field began during my teenage years, when I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis—a chronic, autoimmune disease affecting various joints throughout my body. As I went through years of treatment, my physician and other medical professionals were instrumental in helping me to maintain a positive attitude after my diagnosis. Their care was the impetus for my future goals, as I saw the genuine goodness that they felt from helping others. As a result of all the medical help and emotional support that I received from these medical providers throughout my youth, I have chosen to pursue a career in the service of others through the public health field.
I love working with kids. From babies who are only 6 months old that cry nonstop, to kids in their “terrible twos”, to preteens who are going through their phase changes, I enjoy spending time with them all. I myself am an only child, and can remember always asking my parents for a baby brother or sister. My wish never came true, which is why I cherish every opportunity I get when I am around children. I feel connected to children even if they are not related to me, which makes our bond so special.
He found a job as an office boy for two lawyers and later an apprentice as a printer for a local newspaper, “Patriot”. There he learned many useful things like how to use the printing press and typesetting. In 1833, his family moved back to Long Island and there he continued to work for several newspapers. In 1836, at the age of 17, he began his career as teacher but stopped when he turned to journalism as a full-time career. He founded a weekly new...
My problems manifested themselves full swing when I was placed in foster care at age 16, in my identity vs. role confusion stage of development. I felt disconnected, isolated and alone. I self-medicated with dysfunctional boyfriends and food. I was torn between two families. Being left by my parents cut and burrowed deep within me and silently leeched away at my self esteem, confidence and worth. Despite my identity crisis, I pulled through and I was able to go to college, a feat none of my siblings has been able to accomplish.
My family is constantly pushing me to be better at everything I try, even if I don’t want to continue with that activity because “both of my parents were insanely smart and athletic, so I should be too.” During a trip to Westminster Woods, a camp and retreat center, I did an activity that was supposed to help you understand what made you unique in this group of thirty-two kids. When it was my turn to share out what made me unique, I got all choked up and didn't know what to say. I couldn’t think of anything that made me different than all of the people around me. Over the course of the week, the thought that I wasn’t special kept on appearing in my mind. On the last night we did an activity where we were placed in teams of four and we had to discuss what we wanted to do with our lives. At the end of the discussion, something just clicked in my head. That moment for me was like when Jacqueline first wrote her name. I knew that I wanted to be a doctor, and Jacqueline knew she wanted to be a
My exosystem consisted of me going to the same workplace as my parents. As we own stores, I would often be put to work while they were working for the day, typically spending around eight hours at work. I remember it being easy work, that wasn't too tiring, but helped prepare me for the future. When I didn’t
When I was in high school, for the first time in my life I developed a group of exceptionally close friends. We referred to ourselves as The Family. We were looking for meaning in life, meaning . . . and acceptance. We were a coed group consisting of about ten people-five girls and five guys-and we learned a lot about ourselves and life. One thing that we learned was the freedom to be who we were. We did all kinds of things together-we laughed, we cried, we talked, we fought, we loved, and we hated; we unselfishly supported one another through the storms of adolescence. In the process, we learned how to become truly whole persons. We were not afraid of our masculine or feminine sides, and self-discovery blossomed with the water of mutual acceptance.
Therefore, I was very dependent on my family and friends. Anytime someone new tried to talk to me, I could always count on at least one of my sisters, to be standing right by my side, answering any question they threw at me. One of the things that scared me the most about public school was the number of hours I would be away from my family, after all, they were my interpreters and protectors. After the first few weeks, when everything started to settle down, that’s when I realized “I can do this.” The whole communication and conversation was not as horrible as I imagined it to be. In fact, people were really quite pleasant to me, being the “new girl” and all. I started to make list, which may not seem to be a big deal, but it was a big step for me. Since, previously, I thought that list were just something mothers made for groceries, or the elderly made due their forgetfulness. I was wrong. I came to realize, that it was an independency thing, not an age or gender thing. They had so much responsibilities that they had to write them all down, in order to remember them
“Class,” I announced, “today I will teach you a simpler method to find the greatest common factor and the least common multiple of a set of numbers.” In fifth grade, my teacher asked if anyone had any other methods to find the greatest common factor of two numbers. I volunteered, and soon the entire class, and teacher, was using my method to solve problems. Teaching my class as a fifth grader inspired me to teach others how important math and science is. These days, I enjoy helping my friends with their math homework, knowing that I am helping them understand the concept and improve their grades.
My passion for the fascinating wolrd of science literally can not be put into words. Since receiving my first home science kit at five years of age the way things work and why has always been at the forefront of my mind. During my early years I would find great delight in examining anything I could fit under the lens of my telescope. I will never forget my first look at the intricate detail of a human hair.
So while I was at home they lived at school. I barely saw my siblings due to the number of people enrolled was so massive it would hard to find them. I also did not have a cellphone to contact them because according to my parents I was too young, so I was stuck having to figure stuff out on my own. Not being able to be in boarding school limited some activities I could have been part of but did not stop me from doing
Many people both old and young dream about turning their obsessions and passions into reality. In the quest to making one's dream to come true, there is a need to consider the real nature of obsession and maintaining a balance between obsession and passion. Sometimes psychologists question whether being obsessed with one's dreams is an ingredient for dedication and creativity or a mental illness. The statistical guidebook for diagnosing mental disorders considers an obsession as a persistent and recurrent urge, thoughts or images that individuals experience that can generate into distress and anxiety (Brown & Fee, 2002). Furthermore, the individual tries to ignore such feelings or pictures or tries to use other thoughts or actions to neutralize
Anybody that knows me knows that my passion and goals in life have to deal with fashion. If I could be anything in this world I would love to be a designer of some sort or at least be in the industry. When it comes to clothing and style it just comes easy one of the easiest things I’m good at. Fashion is an art form it allows you to express your view on style anyway you choose. And to me I feel like nobody has the right to judge that. Style hasn’t always come easy to be though just like everything else it takes time and practice it’s still a work in progress. When I look back to my middle school and early high school years I wonder deeply about my choices, middle school had to have been the worst. I was going through a colored jeans faze, I would wear bright yellow, honey mustard yellow, sky blue, purple, and pink. If somebody were to name a color I probably had jeans that color. It gets worse though because I would have the worst possible combination choice of shoes to go along with a matching bead necklace and bracelet set, followed by a grey or navy blue uniform shirt. It’s clear I had no idea what I was doing the best part is I was being myself and that’s all that matters. No matter how much I think my style has grown I’m only human and will look back and probably wonder why I wore the outfit I’m wearing sitting here writing this essay.
As a young adult lady, I grew up always being told how perfect I truly was, I grew up with the unconditional support of both my parents and a strong center in family orientation. I was blessed with these luxuries and I am forever thankful. Although I control the outcome of my life and I control my thought processes and social behaviors, my family has a big impact on how I carry myself and the aspirations I set for myself. Having a supportive family makes my life easier to endure during rough patches in my life and easier to reach my goals. I’ve endured the heartaches and the painful memories, but I am never alone in my pain. I think my family is the direct cause of my naturally elevated confidence during this vulnerable phase in my life, Although I do not want to give the perception of perfection but this mindset has helped me get through the toughest patches and come out on top, it has helped me dispatch from friends when needed and form positive inferences on how healthy relationships are suppose to look like. All families have some type of unique dysfunction, the dysfunction helps with the development of “ lessons learned”. Every family has different dynamics, some are smaller, some are big, some are closer than others. The only similarity that remains is that they all make an impact on a child 's mental, physical and