I was to immediately move across country to live with my strict uncle and his family of six after my parents discovered I had a boyfriend at the age of fifteen. They were afraid I was brainwashed by the American culture. They thought it was best to move us from Phoenix, Arizona to Shelby Township, Michigan to be around people of my ethnicity, mostly my family. I remember crying the entire way there, the tears running down my face began to expose streaks due to the non-water-proof loreal foundation I had on. my father tried to convince me that my destiny was in Michigan. “You are going to make an amazing wife to a Chaldean man someday”, said my father. Going on, as he tried to explain our views as a Catholic Iraqi, daddy’s little girl …show more content…
Leaving my parents’ house without a proposal for marriage was forbidden. Marriage life in the Chaldean community is very much arranged. after many stages of approval from other family members, the potential bride to-be then has one chance to decline. Women of my culture are to not date, the decision is based on reputation of the man proposing and his family. I once asked my mother how I could accept a proposal from a man i knew nothing about? Without any passion in her voice she answered, “ Cater to him now, love will come later.” All of the other girls in my family were at least engaged to be married by the age twenty-one. Unlike them I had a different plan for myself, I always spoke my mind without hesitation; It was clear to all members in my family that I was going places without permission from a man. I felt it was my responsibility to end this, and I was willing to go through whatever it took to prove a point. I wanted to be free to …show more content…
It had its good days and bad days though, not speaking to my mother or father for an entire year was heartbreaking. The good days were easy to get through but when it rained it poured, some days I felt there was nowhere to turn. It kept me motivated though, I knew I needed to develop thick skin because mommy and daddy would not be there to save me. I became very cautious and aware of my surroundings, everyone was guilty until proven innocent in my eyes. I had to travel the safe route. Moving on to Columbus after the season was over at Cedar Point, I leased my first apartment. Things were going great for me, I was living one day at a time. My goal was to get into school and make my parents proud, I wanted them to see that I was more than just a bride. I worked extra hard, I made sure my bills were paid on time. I have learned that I do not have any room for mistakes while living out on my own, especially when I refuse to accept any help. If I was going to do this I wanted to finish it how I started
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When I lived in bakersfield, my family was faced with a choice. We could either continue to stay in bakersfield or move to Fresno to buy and manage a gas station. It would mean leaving our big house and living in an apartment for a few months. It would mean leaving my high school for a brand new high school. It would mean leaving my friends for new friends.
and then was court ordered to move in with my mom, things changed. I know had a little half-brother who would grow up to be my best friend. Throughout high school I would turn to my family in support with bullies and petty girl drama. They were my rock. My Junior and Senior year were the toughest emotionally.
Ok the first, I was born in Laredo tx spent a good few years living there then we moved to Austin. Then my dad wanted my mom and me to move to Arkansas I was still 4 or 5. My dad convinced my mom and we went, then my mom started having suspicions about my dad cheating. And it wasn 't long after that my mom caught him
The winter before my 12th birthday, my parents decided that moving to Florida was a good idea, and although it 's a lovely state for tourism, Florida wasn 't the best place for a new start for us. My dad 's side of the family has lived in Pennsylvania for generations, so the move seemed to be a fresh start and an opportunity to settle down for good with nothing from the past interfering. Florida was supposedly cheaper, more child-friendly, and the perfect place for people to redeem themselves. Unfortunately, none of these tales held any truth because when we finally found an apartment, it was overpriced, dangerous, and filled with many others with the same idea as us.
Growing up different wasn’t always easy for me. My dad, Anthony Smigelski Jr., worked as an active duty officer in the Coast Guard and my mom, Claudia Smigelski, worked as a registered nurse. In 1976 it was illegal to perform an abortion in New Orleans, Louisiana so my parents, who were unsuccessful having their own children, moved to Louisiana in hopes they would have a better change to adopt a baby. On April 2, 1976 they got their wish; I was delivered to their home in Gretna, LA when I was only 10 days old. It wasn’t long after my parents got me that my father was transferred to Governor’s Island, NY when I was two years old.
Growing up Iranian-American, in a predominantly conservative southern suburb, means that my whole life has been spent around people with different beliefs. At first, it was easy to feel isolated, and in all honesty, angry that I was the odd one out. These feelings are trivial when compared to the ridicule I faced when religion came up. After many years of failing to realize the gravity of my uniqueness, I was finally able to visit Iran. There, I visited the shrine of an important Islamic Imam, Imam Reza.
Autonomy of Marriage Growing up in an affluent and conservative family, my parents have always instructed me to find a mate with a matching social status. However, my family never restricted my brother and sister to marry who they love, which unfortunately either of them has done, provided they find their mates to be fitting their personalities and family status. During the classroom discussion on this issue, although I had some frictions with my original views, my central claim—parents should not control children’s marriage, but children themselves should exercise discretion. My parents’ view has also shaped my view on this issue.
While preparing to interview a girl I practically knew nothing about, besides the fact that she was Palestinian, I expected a concealed woman in a full hijab. However, I was greeted with a bright, smiling girl wearing clothes I would expect my sister to wear. My own cultural expectations threw me off immediately, and it seemed as if my grasp on the middle east had been tenuous for the first time in my life. She told me her name was Deema, a 20 year old University of Oregon student from Palestine. We chatted about her childhood, her family, and many other things.
Just like everyone else, I belong to many different communities all with unique features that define them and separate them from the rest. Everyone feels they belong to one community more than the rest. The community I feel the community I belong to the most is the Iranian community in my local area. This community that I belong to frequently have get-togethers and meetings for fun.
Her town believed she was crazy because of the way she and her father carried themselves, the fact she had never married, and the way she dealt with grief. Throughout her life, her father turned away countless numbers of suitors, even well into her 30s, around marrying age. “None of the
Moving to a new country can be difficult sometimes. Leaving all my relatives and friends back home was the saddest thing for me. My mother told me that we were moving to a new country. At first, I thought my mother was joking about it. but little did I know that she was telling the truth.
I lived with my mom, dad, and my younger brother in a house on eight acres by the more rural part of town. I never imagined that one day we would never be together again. I used to hear my parents argue after dusk. At the time, I did not think anything about their disputes. I thought that most parents disagreed like that
Growing up without my father was hard, especially because my mom was only there to feed, clothe and raise 5 kids including me. At 7 years old my father got 9 years in prison. I still remember the day as if it was yesterday. Approximately at 7 p.m., I saw a lot of police officers outside my house, I thought what is happening! Occasionally I kept peeking out the window to see what was happening.