Recommended: Allan Fraley's story
Facts William E. Story, Sr. (uncle) promised to pay his nephew, William E. Story II $5,000 if he refrained from drinking, smoking, swearing, and playing cards or billiards for money until he reached 21 years old. Although, it was legal to drinking and play cards for money during the late 1860 's; the nephew agreed and completed his part of the bargain. The nephew also wrote a letter to his uncle about the agreement. The uncle replied and told him the money would include interest under the terms and conditions of the letter. Twelve years later, the uncle died without paying his nephew any of the $5,000 with interest.
He can learn more about his emotions towards his younger brother and is equipped with tools to tackle his guilt. Harper High School as a school with its astounding education not only tries to instill normalcy and livelihood into its students in preparation for the future but also combats the aftermath of the violence happening in the community in the present. My high school served as a place of socialization with other teenagers my age. My parents were strict with me so I could not go outside with friends often, and it was during the COVID-19 pandemic that I realized how fundamental connecting physically with others was. In the present tense, I appreciate that my high school not only offered an education but allowed me to socialize with others, serving as a vehicle for experiencing different
It was a normal sunny day. Samantha was abandoned by the parents at age 15. Samantha woke up knowing that she was not alone in her house. She felt this type of presence with her in her room. She gets a phone call from her friends she had met the day before.
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.
Who is Angel Perez II? I am Angel Perez and this is my first year at California State University San Bernardino. But how did I get here? It has been a long journey throughout the years. I have had to face some tough adversity in my path. I finally made it though, despite all the setbacks, loses, and failures.
On May 20,1996 I was born Damione Freeman growing up in a small city named Pell City. Growing up wasn't easy for me father was never around just leaving me with my mother. As a child I was always happy, caring, and well mannered. When I turned five I started living with my grandmother, Dianne Freeman and my uncle, Akeem Freeman. At the age of five I was torn away from my mother because of her husband and his issues.
Many of the crucial changes and additions to my identity occurred as I turned 12, 13, 14, and now 15-years-old. I became more responsible and mature like most tennagers, but I also learned to show empathy, respect, perseverance, and many of the attributes that are fundamental to my identity. These attributes have been shaped by all the love in my life . It causes me to thrive even when something happens which might initially cause me pain and hopelessness. However, Eliezer had lost this love and support.
The first story that explores the fear society has of certain women is “Nineteen Thirty-Seven.” In the story Nineteen Thirty-Seven, Josephine a young haitian girl, whose mother was captured and thrown in prison because she was accused of being a witch. Women are portrayed as wicked and evil. For example, “ ‘And before the women went to sleep the guards made them throw tin cups of cold water at one another so that their bodies would not be able to muster up enough heat to grow those wings made of flames, fly away in the middle of the night, slip into the slumber of innocent children and their breath.’ (Danticat 37-38)”
With their help I left John Edgar Howard elementary school with a strong head on my shoulders, and the devotion to strive for more. I had to move to a different elementary school because John Edgar Howard Elementary ended up being closed, because of the rough neighborhood. I then, attended Bradbury Heights; a school that I didn’t know existed. I was never exposed to many different neighborhoods, or opportunities. I managed to graduate and proceed to middle school where I continued my athletic career of basketball, and outstanding academic profile.
Suddenly, I woke up from my worst nightmare, a reality which could never be forgotten. Transitioning to my early years, when I was just about below an age of eight, life was simply difficult and unfair to what I can explain. Poverty, a hard decision to encounter, was simply visible on my family. Hearing in my ears discriminatory words due to my origins and
We had to grow up quickly and understand what was going on around us. I knew we lived in a depressed environment, but I didn’t have any connection to anyone outside of our communities that could confirm or deny our situation. I can recall one spring when my mother’s Uncle Puddin came from New York to visit us. He talked about many things that was new to us. When he left, my oldest sister who was on school break went to spend the summer of ‘62” with him and his wife.
Well...I was 6 when Child Protective Services came to get us. I lived with my mom and my three sisters, the youngest was Donna she was 5 & Lizzy was 7 and Mary was 10. I remember most of my family lived in the same neighborhood like my two Aunts and my uncle and grandpa and grandma. There was an occasional gunshot, sometimes there was a fire truck rushing down our street . We lived on top of a hill at 1015 Norwich in Grand Rapids.
ALLY Epilogue As we stand hand in hand, it takes me a second to realize Jack has tears streaming down his face, and a second more to realize I do too. There has to be a word to describe this moment. A bis philosophical word that could tell a person the 101 emotions running through my veins right now. It’s on the tip of my tongue, so close that I can taste it.
From this day, I still remember how lonely I felt and how badly I wanted to be accepted. I dreaded to go to recess because I wasn't sure what type of crowd I would “ fit in” with. As I walked in class, I saw everyone divided into various cliques and eventually I found myself every week trying to fit in with a different one. I tried my best to act like those kids in order to fit in, I changed so many things such as my attitude, my clothing, my hairstyles and how I spoke in the span of one year. I was so desperate to feel like I was not alone and had real friends that I basically would’ve done anything for others to like me.
My story of my childhood is not to get pity from anybody; my story is empowering! The struggle and the hard times of my childhood gave me the desire for more. My mother inspired me to fight for what I want, to struggle for what I need, to dream for tomorrow because it just might be a little brighter than today and to make the not so bright days’ worth
