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Effects of parents'separation on their children
Effects of parents'separation on their children
Effects of parents'separation on their children
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Journal Entry 6 As a little kid I moved...a lot. I moved more than birds migrate, at least that's how it felt. Obviously as a child i had no say in moving so I just had to drop everything for the move. Due to this I don't feel like i can consider any one place home. I don't have any childhood friends that i've known for years. Honestly I feel robbed of my childhood! I constantly think about how my life could have been had my parents not been selfish bastards! But I guess that saying that makes me just as selfish. When I was three or four years old my parents decided to move to Bolivia.So i had to leave my friend Christian who I met at years old and went to school with. I was sad but excited to visit a new country. When we got to Bolivia …show more content…
we went to live with my grandfather. He had the biggest house I had ever seen. I was happy. I started to go to school and was really enjoying it but just as things were getting good my parents took a massive smelly dump on everything and moved us to back Tulsa. Now we moved a lot and there was no real reason for us to move my parents just felt like moving ! When we got to Tulsa we lived there for a few months and then we moved to McAllen ; Tx. I loved it there ! We lived in a nice cosy apartment, I was going to school where I had the hugest crush on my teacher. I was really living the life we went to the beach every weekend, my dad had a really cool job at a gym, and I had made a new best friend. But just like most everything in my life everything got thrown in the garbage and we moved again. When my parents told me about the move I cried for hours. My dad left a month before us so he could get me enrolled in school and buy a house. I thought my dad had left for ever but about a month later we moved and I was with my dad. When we moved to Bolivia It was raining extremely hard.
It’s kind of funny because the rain represented how my school year would go for the next 5 years. I really hated Bolivia for the first year because I missed my friends and my old school. After that first year i fell in love with Bolivia! The beautiful views, the culture, the people, everything about it was amazing. There are some days where I think about all these beautiful things i miss and it makes me cry. Despite of my love for the county i was getting bullied pretty badly at school. I was bullied so badly that i was failing school so I had to change schools again. At the new school i got bullied but not as badly as at the other school. After two years at that school i made the choice of going back to the other school even if i was bullied everyday because i wanted to go to a good school for my future to be better. Im very surprised i said that. I changed schools the next year. When school started i began to make friends and i was making straight A’s so i was very happy! But it was to good to be true. Just like every time something goes good for me thing hit the fan. My parents told me they were getting divorced but not only are they getting divorced but i was also moving to the united stated with my mom. I had literally just started to be happy and that
happened. During the 5 months we stayed in Bolivia for my sister and I to finish the school year my mother began to abuse me. At one point she lost her mind and kicked me and my sister out of the house, we were 11 and 8 years old , then after 2 week she took my sister and I back in. Then came the move, we were headed to the USA! My mother had filled our heads with all kinds of lies to get us to go with her the lies, ranged from telling us how we had so much family here that will love us and nothing will be different, to telling us that living in the USA would be easy and full of sunshine and rainbows. The day of the flight my dad and family came to send us off , it was nice.When we got to the USA I was sad to see that my mother had lied to my sister and I and that nothing would be easy. I regretted coming but there was no going back at this point. I missed my friends and family, especially my dad, I didn't properly see my dad for four years until he moved here to be with us. As soon as he got here I decided I was going to get away from my mother and live with my dad. Sadly for this I had to change school again after just starting to fit in. And now i'm here. If you want a very honest answer I don't believe that giving up all these things was worth it. Actually it was not fucking worth it at all! I learned absolutely nothing that I could use in my later life , I actually think that all these things screwed me up in the head.
I was born in Guatemala in a city called, called Guatemala City. Life in Guatemala is hard which is why my parents brought me into the United States when I was eight months old. Some of the things that makes life in Guatemala hard is the violence. However, Guatemala has plenty of hard working men, women, and children who usually get forced to begin working as soon as they are able to walk. However, unlike many other countries, Guatemala has a huge crime rate. I care about the innocent hard working people that live in Guatemala and receive letters, threatening to be killed if they do not pay a certain amount of money at a certain amount of time.
I got to experience living in two different places. They were both very different but, at the same time they had some things in common. I got the privilege of living in Mexico for about three years which was when I was five and once I turn seven I moved back to the United States where I had to repeat first grade. Living in Mexico and living in the United States was great but, the value of money, the language,and the weather were some of the situations that could be easily compared and contrast.
When I was 7 years, I moved from my home in Australia to the other side of the planet to Dallas Texas. When I heard that I was moving, I felt a wave of despair wipe over me. As Taylor says “I have never in my own memory been outside of Kentucky” (Kingsolver 12). This was the same for me since I had never been
Imagine your first home. The place where you lived right after you were born. Where you took
The day my grandparents told me they wanted to go to the Florida Keys and asked if I would like to join. So of course I wanted to go. Oh and when they told me i could bring a friend along i was jumping with happiness inside. They told me we would be going for a couple weeks and they had all expenses covered. So that day I started talking to Jamie and asking her when she would be back, because at that time she was in Florida visiting family.
Because of some of the circumstances that make me who I am, it is hard to say I have any one definitive home. Instead, I have had two true homes, ever since I was a young child. What makes this even more of a conundrum is that my homes have always had little in common, even though they are only a few hundred miles apart. Between the big city of Houston, Texas, and the small town of Burns Flat, Oklahoma, I have grown up in two very different towns that relate to one another only in the sense that they have both raised me.
When I left Mexico to come to the United States at the age of 10, I left my familia behind and continue the journey to the "American Dream." I never forgot the memories that I had cherished throughout my childhood years.
Shortly after my mother had entered fifth grade her father got orders to go to Lima, Peru to help on the military base there. Her family lived in a wonderful house just outside of town. In the beautiful house my mothers sisters and her made memories that they will never forget,like making mud pies out of sticks and mud. After two years of living in Lima they moved to Buenos Aires, Argentina for three years, and back to Lima for two years.
I was born in the United Sates, but my parents are from Ecuador. When I was 4 years old my mom decided to go back to Ecuador and built our own house, so we can have a place to live. For many years we have been living in Ecuador and I have loved it all the years I have live there I got use to it. I feel more Ecuadorian that American even though i was born here.
I never would have imagined feeling like an outsider in my own home. Unfortunately I wouldn’t even go as far as considering my current home as “my home.” I live in a house with eight people and two dogs and for some, that might not even be slightly overwhelming, but for me it is. I try to keep my heart open about the situation, but I always end up feeling like I don’t belong. Given the circumstances of my situation, I would say life definitely turned out better than what I initially expected, but I was left feeling like a “stranger in a village” having to live with a family that is nothing like my own.
I would say that my childhood was very different from most children. For me, there really was no stable place that I would consider to be my true home. Due to my dad’s job in banking and finance, I have lived in Chicago, San Francisco, Boston and now Connecticut where I currently reside. As a child growing up, I remember very well, those feelings of nervousness and anxiety being the new kid in school. I would share to my classmates that I had just moved from a prior city and have lived in “this place and that place” and they would stare at me in awe. They had thought that I had the coolest childhood and was so fortunate to see all of the United States. However, for me, that was not what I wanted. I wanted stability. I wanted to develop a core
Everything I dreamed about for my senior year was taken from me the day that I moved. When I left my old school I not only said goodbye to my friends, but I also said goodbye to an easy senior year. At my new school I am just another body. No one knows who I am. I talk to everyone I meet, trying to make conversation, but yet I still eat alone in the cafeteria every day, listening to everyone laugh while I try to hold back my tears.
In 1967 deep in the Bolivian Jungle a group of Bolivian Special Forces, trained by the American Green Berets were hunting down Che Guevara, a Marxist revolutionary, who had been attempting to overthrow the government. Guevara had gone to Bolivia in the hopes of instigating a revolution among the poor Bolivian peasants but to his surprise his ideals were met with either indifference or contempt and it was one of these people that betrayed his location to the Bolivia government, and so the Special Forces were sent out to kill Guevara. They tracked him down in the middle of the jungle where he was killed, his hands cut off for identification and his body buried in an unmarked location so as not to become a martyr’s grave (1967: Che Guevara). This story, although centered around one very famous man, is just one of the few that mark Bolivia’s tumultuous history of instability and military action.
Have you ever had to move somewhere completely different at a young age? Perhaps somewhere you didn’t even know existed? As a
When reminiscing about my childhood a home is hard to recall. It seemed common for others to have a place called home. Moving from house to house was not the problem, but the empty feeling. Home to me was my grandparent’s house. I spent nearly all of my childhood there. My grandparents bought the one story house with two bedrooms in the early seventies. From the spacious bedroom, to the kitchen with endless possibilities and the way I spent my time this house defined my character.