I came from a decent sized city in Texas named Weslaco. I have lived in a loving divorced family since I was 5 years old. My brother and I were given joint custody so we have lived with both our parents despite the divorce.
For 12 years I have been living in two seperate houses from week to week. This has left me with two different experiences with getting raised. One week I would be told by my father that we are father and son, not friends. While the next week I would be told to speak my mind as if we are friends (though with a level of respect). Changing from week to week was a different experience when I was little, but I soon got used to it and believed it was normal. Therefore, living in two different residences, each different from one
Arthur was the first born just as I was, except he was the first and only while I on the other hand have three siblings. We were both born into extremely loving and caring families. Arthur was raised by extremely strict parents and was not even allowed to go out after school or hang out with friends as I do occasionally. His father just like my parents set goals for self-reliance, discipline and responsibility. Because of those goals Arthur began to take great pride in his reputation. I also feel as if I’m always being judged. We have both been called “quiet” people but Arthur eventually grows out of that and my parents tell me I’m beginning to do the same. Both of our parents, to our displeasure, force us to do our numerous chores before anything else. The difference lies within the punishment for disobeying our parents wishes. The so called “beatings” that Arthur received in his time were nothing unordinary yet if those beatings were to occur today they would be seen as wrong and inhumane.
born and raised in the San Joaquin Valley in a small town called Porterville. My
Based on the parenting style definitions, both my mother and my father use the authoritative style of parenting. My parents have high expectations for both my brother and I for our future as well as to follow their rules. My brother, Tristan, and sometimes I debate with my parents, sometimes it may be about their rules and to justify why we may have disobeyed their rules. My parents encourage our independence giving us trust that we can handle keeping our grades up, keeping up with our chores, and taking care of expensive items they buy for us; thus we must show our maturity to our parents and follow their guide lines. They have limits of freedom though because we are still adolescences going through life. Whenever
My parents were pretty strict because all they asked for was respect, manners, and good grades, when we came home. Being raised in this family was just as crazy as hearing the neighborhood stories of “Agua Dulce” and like it was we always had our good days. My home on the other hand wasn’t quite good looking but I found pride and joy from living there all these years. Living in that house was always a war or a battle to fight for something that got us something special or fun in return or fight to get a spanking later on. Especially if you’re one of the little ones fighting for a big seat, but we all worked together sometimes. It was all fun even when my brother and I would go out to play football and
As I examine this theory I realized that my mother and I have established a “status quo” for as long as I can remember. She was the strict parent, very dictatorial in a number of ways, and as long as I did as I was told, all was well. As the years progressed I realized that miscommunication is bound to take place. “Miscommunication occurs because people are not "speaking the same language” (Communication Pragmatics). This often becomes evident in my family when my mother tells me to clean my room. In my mind, she means that I should c...
My mom has always been the type of parent to mold towards that particular child’s needs. On the other hand, my father never really changed his style on parenting. My mom would be classified as an authoritative parent. She’s always been very involved in all three of her children’s lives. She’s very much about trying to teach her kid’s lessons as they go through life. She wants us all to be very responsible, mature, use common sense, and to be independent. She will most certainly step in on any situation where she feels like she can insert her thoughts. My mom has always been a lecturer as well. Regardless of the situation my mom will see it as an opportunity to lecture or as she likes to think as educating us on why to do or not to do whatever we did again. My dad on the other hand was without a doubt used an authoritarian parenting style. His father used the stern do what you’re told mechanisms with him so it somewhat just transferred over to him. Social learning theory definitely played a role in my father’s parenting style towards his children. My parents may have had two different parenting styles, but it kept us all in line. The children respected our parents due to their control over us that they made known whenever they needed to. They used what worked, and what they knew us to make us turn out as self-individuated as we each could have possibly
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.
households rule the roost. Many parents don’t know the fine line between being the parent or
Growing up in a time when the phrase ‘children should be seen and not heard’ was the norm of the day, really pains me. I am almost ashamed to admit that my parents would proudly declare that they could take me anywhere and I would stay put and not be a burden to anyone. My upbringing was very distant; I was not close to my parents and have been estranged from them for many years. This however has not been the path that I chose for my family; it has in fact compelled me to be the total opposite. I honestly believe that due to my upbringing, I use the term loosely here, that I found it so repulsive and hard to fathom that anyone could treat a child with such disdain that I vowed I would never repeat this behaviour. I was never valued, my opinions never taken seriously, well I was never asked, if I am totally honest. I was always told how to act, how to think and how I should behave. I was given no explanations, just do as I say and don’t ask questions, a very stiff upper lip British upbringing.
Having two vastly different styles made each one of them not as strongly apparent in my personality. Instead of having solely authoritarian parenting, the authoritative parenting I was exposed to allowed me to grow mentally, socially, and emotionally. With this being said, I can also see how the authoritarian style impacted me. I sometimes struggle to make decisions for myself that should be effortless. Instead of being able to easily decide for myself, many times I look for an outward opinion, or an affirmation of my decision. Being raised under two different styles I can understand how both positively and negatively impacted my life. Looking back on my childhood, versus who I am now makes me proud to say I conquered all of the obstacles that both parenting styles placed in front of me. This has resulted in my personal perception of parenting styles and which ones I would like to use in the future to raise my
Never did I expect to count the days to finish playing a sport. Better yet, never did I envision myself having genuine suicidal thoughts. As a child, when I first began to play sports, my father told me to always maintain an aggressive mindset when competing; however, what he failed to explain was how to control it. Beginning in middle school, regardless of the task, I withheld that mentality to power through any form of adversity I faced. In class, I often felt like a single ice cube in a freezer as other students laughed and I showed no facial expressions. Here I stood, a small kid with such a large amount of anger to be willing to fight anybody despite unfair advantages. In the eighth grade, my mother had to switch my schools after getting
Way back when I was in second grade my dad was diagnosed with a nearly incurable type of cancer. At the time I wasn't aware of how bad it was, I just knew that if it wasn't cured he would die. His fight lasted over a year but when I started third grade he lost the battle. When I was younger the thought that I might lose my dad had never crossed my mind. I can honestly say that I took what I had for granted, thinking I’d have him for many years to come. Due to this experience I believe that people should appreciate what they have while they still have it.
Today has been one of the most stressful, most fun, and most hectic days of my life. The day started normal. I got up, got ready, and went to school. The day was going good. I got to school on time, I got everything done for my senior experience, and tonight is the Laurens vs. Clinton football game. Second block is my internship, but today I did not have to go because it was Friday. My friends and I were waiting around for something to do until the pep rally that was later in the day. We decided to go to Presbyterian college and get some Starbucks because we had time to kill. I volunteered to drive the crew. How much better could this day get? It was Friday, I got out of school earlier than usual, I got to get Starbucks, and
My Father was born in Monterrey Nuevo Leon, then he was raised in Derramadero Coahuila a pueblo outside of Saltillo Coahuila. He was raised with my grandparents but his childhood was not the best one. He was mistreated and was not raised that good by his father. My grandpa
I was born in Spokane Washington and lived my first three years on a reservation with my mother and my father. When I was three I also started my modeling career until I was fourteen. When I was four my mother remarried and her husband she was with adopted me she was with him until I was five or six. The pieces I do remember from this time were not ones I care to speak about; they still haunt my dreams. I can tell you I was scared of him and still have a hard time speaking to him still today. When I was ten my mother moved me to Portland Oregon for a year. She then decided to move my sister and me to Southern Idaho to keep me out of trouble. She said Portland was no place for a soon to be teenager to grow up. Had she known then what she knows now I think she would have kept me in Portland. I do not remember a lot of the details of my life until I moved to the little town of Filer, located about 160 miles south of Boise Idaho.