Sasha Hollens And Shaun Maynard Analysis

Throughout my life I never really had parents; coming home to a drug abuser who was constantly zoned out was a normal day. I wasn't loved or even thought of as a child. My biological parents never once came to my awards or conferences. I used to lie to my childhood friends and say that my parents had to constantly work. In reality they didn't care at all.As a child I had both of my parents; when I grew up everything collapsed. I was in 7th grade when I realized that my life would change dramatically. My biological mother fell deeply into drugs, as for my biological father he left without saying anything. At the age of 12 , I was placed with a family friend, while my biological mother was in rehabilitation.

I was born on Sunday, August 16, 1998. My fall name is Jesse Lee Tonga, my mom wanted my name to be Jesse James but my dad didn't wanted my name to be Jesse James, there was no really reason why my mom and dad chose my name. I was born at McKennan Hospital in Sioux Falls South Dakota, at 7:56 on Sunday morning of the 16 of August. I was 9 pounds 4 oz 21 inch and I had blue eye and brown hair. On the day I was born my mom and went to the hospital at 2:30am after dropping my brother Zach off at my grandma and grandpa’s house. I was born on my mom and dad’s 1 year wedding anniversary and my dad’s birthday. I am the second child that my mom and dad had. I have one brother that is older then I am and 1 sister that is younger then me.

As a child, I was quiet and withdrawn. I taught myself to read when I was three, and spent most of my time reading instead of playing with other children. I understood very early that I was different from others at school. I didn’t have to pay for lunch, something I found (and to be honest, still find) completely mortifying. My father was almost never home, always trucking all over the country in an effort to keep our family afloat. When other kids talked about their dads in school, I often found myself feeling jealous. I, too, wanted a dad who could teach me how to ride a bike or throw a ball. I also understood that it was impossible for me to have that, because my father worked around the clock to keep my family from going hungry. I realized that in order to achieve the things that I wanted to, i would have to take the initiative and do it myself. I borrowed my sister’s bike (although it was much too tall for me to use comfortably), and I practiced riding it until i knew i was better at it than any other 7 year

I remember when my father told me that I lived in a society where we made peace, where we made arts and music, we didn’t make war or chaos. Now that I am old enough to make decisions for myself, I know clearly that behind his prudent words, lies where being held. I am not mad or upset, I felt that his words were just shielding me against the cruel world. He wanted his child to grow up with happiness not discomfort, and he did a great job on guiding me to become what I am today. Family is known to bring us the necessary strength to survive our struggles, but sometimes I wonder what part of my childhood made me who I am today.

I was born on Tuesday, July 30, 2002 at the Naval Medical Center Portsmouth, formerly known as Naval Hospital Portsmouth. My parents named me, their second child, Joy Lera Ford. I lived my whole thirteen years of life in Norfolk, Virginia. Even though I had struggled in the short time I have lived on this earth, I have always found a way. I am still finding that path from my past and the future to come.

Me personally, when I was bullied at such a young age, it made me feel powerless. I felt as if I was alone and I wasn’t feeling worthy to the world. I always wondered when I was young, what can I offer this world and to the point that I was mentally hanging off the edge and was ready to let go. I could have perished from this beautiful world that I now cherish and understand.

I was bullied from pre-K all the way until High school where it became discreet until it eventually stopped. I had to live day-to-day from elementary school up to high school being bullied, and when I asked teachers and counselors for advice, those adults which I was told I could trust to fix the problem only exacerbated the problem. This was due in part to the part that I only knew Korean and was in ESOL. This was the main reason why I was alone by myself under a kid’s playground set where I would spend my recess everyday for elementary

     Going back forty-five years is not an easy task to complete because I can’t remember some of the finer details of my childhood. I know I was born on a hot August afternoon in Birth Year at Place Of Birth in City ands State. My mother was just twenty-two at the time and was already the mother of two, I was her third child. My father was twenty-one and already a workaholic, I know because my mother would constantly remind me not to be like that. My mother and father were good parents and they tried to give us the best upbringing they could. My father was the kind of person that believed he should provide and protect his family, and he did a very good job of doing that.

However, for me, elementary school is a somewhat painful memory. Throughout most of my grade school years I was bullied–physically and verbally–almost everyday. The kids on the playground would exclude me, my “friends” would be my friends one day and not the next, and then there would be the days that they kicked me or hurt me in some form or fashion. Of course, looking back now, it seems like petty, childish games, but in the moment it was a huge blow to the fragile eight year old I was. It wasn’t all terrible, though. Before the bullying I was naive, quick to trust, and fragile. Afterwards though, from all these experiences I learned forgiveness, kindness, grace, and who to place my trust in. As I grew up, I swore I’d never treat anyone the way I had been treated and I wouldn’t stand for bullying; no child should have to experience that kind of emotional and physical

My dad was unable to take care of me, so my aunt offered to. The language barrier between my aunt’s family and I was evident; she spoke Mandarin while I spoke Cantonese. As I was transitioning from one dialect to the next, I also needed to learn English. My six year old brain was still able to develop and grow fluent to this change. Soon enough, I began to memorize all the different foods I saw on the labels on the shelves when my aunt took me grocery shopping. Through my constant flipping of flash cardings of animals and everyday objects, I finally mustered up confidence to conduct a proper conversation with my peers during recess. I also engrossed myself into the cartoon TV shows everyday as I tried to comprehend what they were talking about. Little did I know that I began to question my family situation the more exposed I was to their portrayal perfect families. I always asked myself, “ If Arthur, Peppa, and Dora all lived with their parents, why wasn’t I?” As I grew older, I dreaded birthdays and holidays because it created a longing inside me for a family reunion that had no chance of happening. Seeing parents supporting their kids warped my mind into fearing judgement from others. I fought off that mindset because I started to see that I only had myself to

I was born on September 21st, 1947. When I was just 2 years old my father left my life. As I grew older, I went into school and I began my writing career in 1959. I finally decided to publish a local newspaper with my friend, David. When I graduated from Lisbon Falls High School in 1966, I went to Maine University to get a degree in English. I graduated in 1970 and went on in life.

I was also bullied in high school. When I was 16, my mother bought me a brand new car. None of my other friends had new cars, so they became envious. Girls began to write mean things on the windows of my car, put their cigarette butts out on my car, and were telling each other they were going to beat me up. One day in the middle of summer, my friend and I ran into a group of girls from school. They started making rude comments at us, but we chose to ignore them. One of the girls walked up to me and asked me, “Are you scared yet?” and punched me in my face. My friend and I walked

I found it difficult for me to resolve my emotional conflict, it took a long time for me to find confidence, and it became hard for me to enter the student council in the senior high school since I was afraid of making the same mistake. Any students who had ever abused psychologically must struggle when they continue their education, they will always be burdened by fears until they can resolve it by themselves. This condition is not health for students, the psychological bully will have a long lasting memory, and give an inconvenience feeling in school. Learning and schooling will be hard when the subjective feeling is not

During my early years I was bullied in and out of school. My first experience with bullying started when I was in daycare. A girl named Kelly started bullying me. Every time I saw her she would talk about either my hair or my clothes or the way I looked. One day, my brother and Kelly’s sister were watching Kelly and I. Kelly’s aunt had told her to leave me alone. And after her aunt left the room, Kelly started pushing me to see what I would do and after a while I got really angry, so I punched her in the face. As her aunt came back in the room, she saw Kelly on the floor with me standing over her. Kelly’s Aunt then said, “Did I not tell you to leave her alone.” After that experience I knew that I had the

My problems snowballed when, in sixth grade, I switched from a small Catholic school to a much larger environment in a new town. Being bullied became a huge part of my life, which made things a lot more difficult to cope with. I had no friends and was teased all the time.