Personal Essay: My Dad And The American Dream

“This is your year son,” my father says while glancing at me above his newspaper. It is open to the local sports section and a picture of me in my football uniform is dominating the first page. I get an uneasy feeling as soon as I see it. My stomach turns as if someone had just punched me in it. After everything that happened this summer, seeing me portrayed as a heroic figure made me nauseous. I bite into an apple, trying to conceal my discontent from my father. Between bites I murmur, “The team looks good this year.” My Dad closes the paper and shoots me a disapproved look. The way the light is hitting him through the kitchen window exposes his age, his wrinkled nose and mouth, and silver streaks become prominent. He may have once looked like me, but now the stresses of everyday life and striving for the American Dream has caught up to him, leaving only a shell of his old self. “Forget about her Jason”, he says in a stern voice. I look down at my half eaten apple, the core is barely showing and its juices slowly dripping down my hand. I hurl it into the trash and swiftly pick up my bag. I leave the house slamming the door behind me. The school welcomes me with a navy blue and gold banner that hangs down the side of its brick and ivory walls like a cascading waterfall. It reads “Class of 2015” and is surrounded by all of our signatures. I scan …show more content…
I shove my way out of the pack and grab her fragile arm. She looks up at me; I can tell I startled her. Scaring her was the last thing I wanted to do. With everything going on right now, I just wanted to hold her close to me. But before I could form words she smiles and says, “Stop, I am going to be late for class.” I have always admired how diligent she was. However, something about her face looks different. It is not as rosy and freckled as I last remembered it. Our playful banter moves too fast and soon I am swooped away before I can talk to her about what happened this