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Poverty and the effects on children
Summary on the effects of poverty on children
Poverty and the effects on children
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When I was a little girl I just didn’t stay in one house forever we moved all around the world. I do remember staying in Carver Circle. Carver circle are the projects and if you was from there we was called baby baby kids. Carver Circle are some red Bricks builds with stages to walk up or down. Each project have 4 apartments with Black stages.. we had a baseball field, the park , and a gym in the projects. The neighborhood was like a lot of bad kids. A lot of men’s just use to sit around in sale different drugs just to take care of their family. It wasn’t a good neighborhood it was a very poor involvement. I grew up in low income apartments. So basically everybody in there mom stayed out there. Everybody out there wasn’t raise by their mom
My mind started to wonder though each room of the house, the kitchen where mom used to spend every waking hour in. The music room where dad maintained the instrument so carefully like one day people would come and play them, but that day never came, the house was always painfully empty. The house never quite lived to be the house my parents wanted, dust bunnies always danced across the floor, shelves were always slightly crooked even when you fixed them. My parents were from high class families that always had some party to host. Their children were disappointments, for we
There are many things that have molded me into the person I am today such as being born into a family with four children. With three siblings, I have been forced to be able to work out problems from stealing each other’s toys to having to rush to the emergency room to get stiches because my brother chased me around the house and I tripped. My mother, father, brother, and two sisters were all born in Pennsylvania and I am the odd ball and I was born in Adrian, Michigan. From when I was a child I always loved being involved with sports because of my competitive nature. I grew up playing soccer and having success with that but then my love changed and I began playing lacrosse and football. I started playing lacrosse in middle school and played
It was the fall of 2010 and little did I know that my world was about to change drastically. We had moved back to Kenosha, Wisconsin in 2008 after living in Mexico, and I was starting to enjoy my life in the dairy state. My 6th Grade classes had just started at Bullen Middle School. It was right at this time when my world seemingly got flipped upside down. My parents had a family meeting and informed my siblings and me that we were moving to a small Iowa town called Orange City. I had feelings of nervousness, excitement, and sadness all mixed together.
As a child, I moved around most of my childhood. From the violent city of Compton, California to the upper middle class of Los Angeles, California, Then later to Elk City, Oklahoma.
Often times I find myself reminiscing about my child hood. I recall driving throughout the prominent metro Detroit neighborhood in which I grew up, Rosedale Park. See in those days my community was a gem which shone bright toward the edification of the Motor City. On streets like Piedmont, Grandville, Stahelin and Artesian one could drive by almost at any time and see children outside playing, adults on porches and sidewalks fellowshipping, and houses abounding with vibrant lights, laughter, and with life. This was my community; moreover, this was a facet of my adolescence that I ignorantly took for granted. Today desolation has grown sovereign over this beautiful gem. Today the sounds of laughter have all but faded into a resounding restless silence. One could even say that abandoned houses and boarded doors and windows have become indigenous, not only to Rosedale Park, but to every part of the metro Detroit area. However, one thing has remained constant; Rosedale Park, no rather Detroit as a whole is still my community.
Once upon a time, in a cabin far away, it was Halloween night October 31st 1973. A group of friends decided to go to a cabin in the woods to celebrate their favorite holiday together. Busses packed full of people were going to the party that me and Skyler had planned. We invited almost the whole school. Finally after hours of searching for our final destination we arrived. Skyler and I were the first to be at that raggedy torn down cabin. We brought the lights and the beers and the snacks , we spent hours and hours of decorating and setting up finally Andy showed up to help with all the heavy work.
The world I grew up in was small, a close-knit rural area without street lights or sidewalks. Doors were left unlocked and everyone knew each other and, more likely than not, was kin to each other. Men gathered at the store every morning for coffee and news, families went to church picnics and family reunions. Everyone was Catholic and (almost) everyone went to church on Sunday. When the neighbor’s son was arrested and when the school bus driver was diagnosed with cancer, everyone knew. When a family was faced with medical bills they couldn’t afford, there would be a benefit at the church gym; everyone would donate what they could and enjoy dancing, eating, and drinking into the night. Every Saturday my mom and grandma and I would ride 20 minutes into town; groceries from Kroger, a quick stop at the post office and the library, then to Wendy’s for fries and hamburgers. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this quiet little town and the people that lived there would forever influence me, and the person I would become.
Life in the middle school and high school was not easy for me. I had become an introvert, I still didn’t know how to be social, and I had very few friends. I was teased for being very quiet, and some people insinuated that I’m scared of fellow people. On the other hand life at home was difficult. My mother had become so bitter and pleased her was next to impossible. She became very harsh with my brother and me, and we were always scolded for even the smallest mistakes. Once in a while, my father would come for us and take us to the city he lived. I would look out of the windows as we drove out of town and would imagine how life in another city would feel like. I looked at the skies, and all I saw were promises of a better future. All my life I had lived in San
I have a lot of fond memories looking back on my childhood. My dad’s parents had a house on Granbury Lake; it was a kid’s paradise. I grew up fishing, which is my favorite thing to do, boating, water skiing, 4-wheeling, anything you could do outdoors we did it. My grandparents had a massive garden and rows of fruit trees that lined their properly. We would wake up early in the morning to help Pa Pa woke in the garden. Being from the city, we that this was the coolest thing ever. As a reward for our hard work, Na Na would treat us to a snack of fresh cherry tomatoes from the garden. Although, she would always call them little boy and little girl tomatoes. Night time was my favorite out at the lake because that’s when the fire flies would come out. Every evening around dusk we would get our mason jars, poke holes in the lids, and wait to spot the first lightning bug. We didn’t have to wait long until the whole night sky
Personal Narrative: The World The world is a messed up place and we are all stuck here until our lives are through, or until we choose to leave. It's strange that I go along with everything everyone tells me, such as that I should wear certain clothes or listen to certain songs. I often wonder why I do the things I do, but then I just realize that's who I am. People are confused about why they are here, and they don't understand what life is supposed to be about.
The community that I had been living here for the past couple of years is Woodside. Woodside is my home where there are a lot of varieties of things to do with people’s lives. In fact, it accommodate how people in this community interact with others such as going to varieties of stores, enjoying themselves at the park and etc. The best view point of my community that I like to talk about is the park and the good foundation of stores that are provided in this community.
I am by myself wearing my blue jeans and an old flannel shirt. It is cool outside but I decided to leave my gloves at home, feeling comfortable with my warm shirt and my sturdy boots.
Growing up in a massive neighborhood magnificent. My neighborhood flooded with kids around my age to hang out with. Occupying the edge of this neighborhood was a large park where the neighborhood’s kids and I would spend most of our time eliminating their boredom. When this park would not satisfy our needs, there were
It was the second semester of fourth grade year. My parents had recently bought a new house in a nice quite neighborhood. I was ecstatic I always wanted to move to a new house. I was tired of my old home since I had already explored every corner, nook, and cranny. The moment I realized I would have to leave my old friends behind was one of the most devastating moments of my life. I didn’t want to switch schools and make new friends. Yet at the same time was an interesting new experience.
Once upon a time, I saw the world like I thought everyone should see it, the way I thought the world should be. I saw a place where there were endless trials, where you could try again and again, to do the things that you really meant to do. But it was Jeffy that changed all of that for me. If you break a pencil in half, no matter how much tape you try to put on it, it'll never be the same pencil again. Second chances were always second chances. No matter what you did the next time, the first time would always be there, and you could never erase that. There were so many pencils that I never meant to break, so many things I wish I had never said, wish I had never done. Most of them were small, little things, things that you could try to glue back together, and that would be good enough. Some of them were different though, when you broke the pencil, the lead inside it fell out, and broke too, so that no matter which way you tried to arrange it, they would never fit together and become whole again. Jeff would have thought so too. For he was the one that made me see what the world really was. He made the world into a fairy tale, but only where your happy endings were what you had to make, what you had to become to write the words, happily ever after. But ever since I was three, I remember wishing I knew what the real story was.