Personal Narrative Analysis

“This is a toilet snake” my mother stated as my sister and I stared incredulously at her. My sister, skeptical and repulsed, challenged my mother with a: “And you expect us to use it”?

“Yes. If you ever live alone you’ll need to be able to take care of yourself and your household”. Practically in unison, my sister and I rolled our eyes and sighed. We had heard her use that line more than a few times. In our house though, you can’t really shrug it off because our mother had done just that. Raised two daughters--and two Miniature Schnauzers--assuming the role of both parents and all the stereotypical duties that correlate. Under the hood of our beat up 2001 Chevy Venture, a place typically reserved for the handyman father, our mother patiently explained the functions of all the different engine components. Additionally, she took the position of the stereotypical mother and demonstrated to her daughters how to separate the light laundry from the dark laundry and what temperature to wash each load at. I was raised by my mother, but I learned things from both my mom and

I wanted the father-daughter dances, the lame dad jokes, and the view from the top of daddy’s shoulders. As I entered high school and the high school Science Olympiad team I finally realized I didn’t need a nuclear family or a normal background. I realized that by being raised by a woman who demonstrated qualities of both parents I had the confidence and know-how to defy gender stereotypes. I, the first female builder in several years, shocked the boys by easily using the chop saw and keeping up in their discussions of cars. It was by removing myself from my assumed comfort zone and invading the land of testosterone that I exposed my passion for engineering and proved to myself and those around me that even without a father figure a girl can use power tools just as well as any