Growing Up In A Small Home Essay
757 Words
4 Pages
Growing up, I lived in a house on the north side of Columbus, Ohio. With one floor, two bathrooms, and three bedrooms, the house was filled to the brim with my five person family. As a little girl, I didn’t mind the smallness of everything; to me, our home was just cozy. From kindergarten to eighth grade, I went to a school where everyone had the same kind of house as me. Everything I grew up with seemed like the norm because, up until that point, I hadn’t known any different. My family had two cars back then: the family van and the junky jeep. We had old tv’s which stuck out from the back and were at least a foot wide. When Christmas came, we made a conservative list for santa and filled our stockings with trips to the zoo and the downtown
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If anything, our proximity made us a more open family. After I was born, and after I was big enough to sleep in a child’s bed, me and my sister shared a room that had enough space for exactly one bookshelf, one nightstand, one dresser, and one set of bunk beds. I remember being old enough to help pick out the perfect princess lavender for our room. Our dad pushed in all of the furniture from the walls, sprinkled glitter in the tub of pale paint, and transformed the confining borders into a glittery wonderland. The confined space was easier to live with when you could look around at night and catch slivers of shimmering silver stand out against the suffocating …show more content…
My dad was a teacher there, which meant me and my siblings could have a private education for a tuition we could afford. At this time, I began feeling the constraints of my class. It wasn’t an immediate cataclysm. My world didn’t shift or tilt on it’s axis. It was as simple as noticing that everything I had known to be normal was no longer. My one-level home was unique. Having to share a room was not universal. Not being able to afford a brand new macbook was something new. I had always seen myself as being normal, but the world around me had somehow changed, and everything I had was not
If anything, our proximity made us a more open family. After I was born, and after I was big enough to sleep in a child’s bed, me and my sister shared a room that had enough space for exactly one bookshelf, one nightstand, one dresser, and one set of bunk beds. I remember being old enough to help pick out the perfect princess lavender for our room. Our dad pushed in all of the furniture from the walls, sprinkled glitter in the tub of pale paint, and transformed the confining borders into a glittery wonderland. The confined space was easier to live with when you could look around at night and catch slivers of shimmering silver stand out against the suffocating …show more content…
My dad was a teacher there, which meant me and my siblings could have a private education for a tuition we could afford. At this time, I began feeling the constraints of my class. It wasn’t an immediate cataclysm. My world didn’t shift or tilt on it’s axis. It was as simple as noticing that everything I had known to be normal was no longer. My one-level home was unique. Having to share a room was not universal. Not being able to afford a brand new macbook was something new. I had always seen myself as being normal, but the world around me had somehow changed, and everything I had was not