humanity

Humanity begins at home.

Meeting the new school child
As parents, we deliver our children to school with trembling hearts. It's like letting all barriers fall and still being on guard at all times. We want them to be accepted both by the community and not least by the community's teachers and educators in power. We want them to keep up and become skilled or at least as competent as possible for them. In addition, we hand over the child with the experience we made ourselves as a child in school. It is not always that we manage to separate the experiences we got in school from our children's experiences. Therefore, our way of meeting the school will depend on what knowledge we have gained and what we expect from the new our children must meet.
By Mette Honoré5 years ago in Families
More Than Just My Mom
I grew up being jealous of the friends I had with one mom and one dad, happily married, one big happy family. Mine was different, I was four when my dad left my mom and I remembered when I saw her in tears. Things were never going to be the same. My siblings and I were introduced to my dad’s girlfriend shortly after. This woman became my stepmom. My mom was the single mother all my life, she worked hard, and got by. We didn’t have much, but she did everything she could when she could, to give us the things we needed and wanted. My mom struggled with depression and I didn’t notice until I was older how overwhelmed she had become with life and how hard she really struggled just to get by and stay afloat. However, my mother was always smiling even in the hardest of times, doing what she could to put a smile on others faces. My stepmom, we didn’t get along much until I was about 23 years old. She is a head strong, hard working ambitious woman. She worked hard for her career and her money and always had It. If we needed or wanted something, we normally had it, within reason of course.
By Chelsea Hope5 years ago in Families
yellow curtains
Yellow curtains. If I could, I'd breathe them in, all the whispy ghost-like fibers clinging to my teeth and tasting like the aftertaste of orange juice.
By Basil F.5 years ago in Families
Brown I Own
Wednesday, October 31, 1931 - He was born hard and feisty. Screamed so loud the nurse nearly dropped him. Good morning, Clay. Babe who fussed in his mom’s arms. He was a dark nut brown. Darker than the babe before. Grandpa Roy, a common law husband, waved his hand. “Not mine.” Grandma held him closer. “What does it matter? Color of skin. He’s yours. He’s mine.” She was a migrant farm worker. Anxious to leave the California hospital so she could make money in the fields. She placed him next to Uncle Smile. Ismael. They would always be united by her heart, womb, blood thicker than old viscous glass dripping like windows in some distant English manor.
By Risa Christy Peris5 years ago in Families
DIVASTUFF COLLECTIONS
Well, my story begins at the age of three years old. That's when my mom and my aunt Esther Lee competed for sewing sundresses and slacks for us girls.
By Gloria Winder5 years ago in Families
Motherhood in One Act
The sun isn’t even awake yet, but she’s already a failure. It’s the formula this time. She mixes the powder and water and realizes too late that she has grabbed a bottle from the dirty side of the sink. She has to start again. As she dumps it, she does the quick math in her head; 29.5 ounces in the can. The can was $34.99. 2 ounces in the bottle. How much money per ounce? It doesn’t matter. It’s liquid money oozing down the drain. Money that they hadn’t planned for and definitely didn’t have to spare.
By Jessica Conaway5 years ago in Families
She was only 12...Part 4
For every successful height I have ever attained, I dedicated them to women. The reason is quite personal. I am here writing this piece because a woman motivated me in different ways to do so. My 13-year old mother, against all the odds, technically refused to abort. She handed me over to my aunt, who accepted me because she had no male child (so I think). She, in turn, handed me over to my "paternal" grandmother.
By VICABOLS5 years ago in Families
Basic Intelligence By Life Experience
Since we have destroyed what little faith people had of God, and the little respect for ourselves as humans and human life, we are faced with adversaries. Unbearable to some unbeatable to others. The truth has been in our faces yet hidden all the same. It has brought us to confusion. What to believe? What should anyone believe?
By Frisca Rios5 years ago in Families
"But they're family"
Throughout history and culture, people have found ways to forgive things that they wouldn't usually forgive because the offender was family. This stretches from little mistakes to horrendous crimes. And, of course, the opposite has always taken place too. Parents throughout history have disowned children and vice versa. But this isn't easy, and I think it's fair to say that there is a pressure in society, both internally and externally, to find understanding when the conflict took place with a close relation. Now, I think an exception that proves the rule more often than not is divorcees. Many people who divorce do not want anything to do with their ex and feel no pressure to. In fact, the opposite is prevalent in many cases. But what is common is for people to make amends when children are involved. And that illustrates the difference. It doesn't need to be stated that most people care very deeply for their relationships with their children, because their children are their blood. That's why, say, a childless couple who bitterly divorce may often have no desire to make amends because their is nothing to lose. This societal and personal pressure is something you feel to those whom you are blood-related. Fiction has often shown this, too. Look at the plot of 'The Godfather' (SPOILER ALERT), where Michael Corleone changes from the nice guy to the ruthless mobster all because of his family and his father.
By Matty Long5 years ago in Families
Beatrix. Bipolar. Barista
You can't begin to tell me why I should keep up this whole charade. The last time I came home, fed the cat, cleaned up the dirty dishes left in the sink, picked up all the empty beer bottles, turned off the television, and then got into bed and shagged you, I fantasized about getting on an old Yankee Clipper, and flying away to Hong Kong or whatever, and never having to see this place again. That's where I really am, metaphorically speaking. I'm the Dragon Lady, and Uncle Stevie will never catch me. I slither in my silk robes. I read tea leaves, and my fingers race over the abacus, as I sing a sad song. Metaphors are more important than you think.
By Steven Bridenbaugh5 years ago in Families
Ignorance of Iesha
It had been a long time since I saw my homeboys in the hood. We were separated by life choices, decisions and responsibilities. Living only nine miles away from one another, it may as well have been light years. Many different youth sporting events, work, gym, community gatherings and backyard BBQ’s is how I spend my time. Being a father of six, most of that time is spent at youth sporting events and activities. Life for my homies was spent drastically different from mine. We shared our life and times with different types of people doing very different things. Nonetheless the love was still there; I would always have their back and they would always have mine.
By Cam Rascoe5 years ago in Families
The Flower that Couldn’t Bloom
"It's been three full days and there's no sign of flowers yet," Barb said while aggressively poking the dirt in the tiny pot where a seed had just been planted. "Do you think that idiot ripped us off? Probably sold us some bad seeds."
By Marina5 years ago in Families