Personal Narrative: The Origin Of My Family

For years, my wife and I have known our oldest daughter has abandonment issues, most of which I ignored, evidencing there was no foundation for her to feel that way. My wife and I were married two years before we had our first child, and have remained married to this day. The manner in which we relate to one another reflects a very healthy relationship. We were very shocked and disappointed over the behavior of our first born, especially when her siblings were doing much better than her in all aspects. It was not until the Masters of Social Work Program that I even began to try to understand what was really troubling her. Let it be duly noted that both my wife and I have been there for her the duration of her life. However, unknowingly …show more content…
Living in a world I can only imagine the difficulties my parents faced down south. As children, my parents were both subjected to the brutality, and humiliation of a black living in the racist south. His father was a sharecropper and the same holds true for my maternal grandfather as well. where there was no value to a black both my parents come from large families. My mother had seventeen brothers and sisters; my dad had eleven brothers and sisters (one died at birth). As a result, I find it hard to imagine either of them having a platform at home. There was little or no conversation about the Civil Rights Movement. I know my dad marched with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on a couple of occasions. What I do know from my dad is that he enlisted in the Army. My dad did share how blacks in California had negative opinions Dr. King. Settling in California after getting out of the Army. My dad found the transition to the west almost the same as the south with the exception being violent. My dad turned to alcohol to cope. Alcoholism and or substance abuse is prevalent through my family. It has been passed down through each generation. While neither my wife nor I drink. My brother use to drink so much that he would have to spend time in the hospital, suffering from alcohol induced psychosis. My dad spent two separate occasions in alcohol rehabilitation residential treatment before finally going into remission. At the time of his death, he was nineteen years sober. My dad became a deacon in the church and if you didn’t know him, you would never have thought he was an alcoholic or a spouse abuse. My dad found strength in hard work and in the church. My brother is opposite. He has the ability to stop and start whenever he wants. Make no mistake about it, when stressors come he does