Personal Book Story

Karen Lopez
Pacific Oaks College
HD 445 Writing Our Stories: Reflections on Literacy Development
April 21, 2016

Page |2

Contents
3.

Introduction

4.

I Am From Poem

6.

Writings from Hear My Voice

9.

Timeline and Stories

12. Symbolic Self-Portrait and writings

15. Stories and photos from my family
19. Reading the World writing
20. Forgiveness Poem
21. Praise Poem

Page |3

Introduction
This assignment is very personal and I dont think I could share it with my parents. Each
time I shared about my past I was a bit stunned because I shared without hesitating. Usually I
dont like to speak about my past. Creating this story book involved a lot of recollecting of my
past and many emotions I have buried. When I think of my childhood, I start to reflect of the all
questions Ive had growing up and have gone unanswered. There were many things that happen
in my childhood that I wish could have been different however, if it wasnt for those events
happening, I wouldnt be the person that I am today. I have been able to work through the
emotions and effects of stressful events, these events have shaped me.
In writing stories about my family, I learned that I have a closer bond with my mother and
three sisters than I do with my father, sister and brother. While putting this project together I asked
myself, why have I distance myself from my fathers side of the family? Why have we become so
distant? Is it due to the troubles I have experienced? If had additional time to work on this book I
would probably add pictures of my childhood and my family. In addition I would have loved to
work on an actual self-portrait painting. Painting is one of passions. This assignment has taught
me cultural differences, and how we adjust and relate to each other through our own experiences.
We can relate to all the emotions felt though our reflective stories that we tell.
The most challenging was sharing feelings regarding my past that I really dont speak of,
my alcoholic father, my mother leaving me at the age of 3, the domestic violence, major decision
I made that changed my life forever. I challenged myself my sharing this information with this
class and realized that I shouldnt be ashamed of the events, I am thankful for each and every single
event for the reason that they have shaped the person who I have become.

Page |4

I Am From
I am from the city of angels, city of dreamers, and land of golden opportunity
and I am from the city of roses, diverse city in the heart of the San Gabriel valley
Pasadena, where you make friends for life and live for the moments.
I am from a forgetful divorce.
From the countless conflicts between divorcees
The two birthdays a year, two Christmass a year, two Thanksgivings a year.
I am from two blended families
and from five loving stubborn siblings
Cindy, Gabby, Ashley, Leslie, and Douglas
I am from the mainstream and Latino/Hispanic culture.
I am from three integrated cultures; Western values such as freedom and individual rights,
expressiveness, and emotional congruence
and I am from traditional Latino/Hispanic family values of close relationships with parents,
siblings, and extended family at home.
I am from BBQs, hamburger and hot dogs
and I am from pupusas, tamales, tacos, and quesadilla Salvadorenas.
I am from Sundays family day and a family that teaches respect to your elders
from Hector and Laura.
I am from taking family vacations once and year and many family gatherings
and from homemade cooking on your special day.
I am from not your typical teenage life; everything changed for me in tenth grade when I became
pregnant.
I am from a teenage mom attending an alternative school with built-in day care at the age of 17.
From harder and longer days than most high school seniors
I am from juggling a diaper bag and backpack
and from beating the odds, walked across the stage at McAllister High received my diploma as
my son and family watched.
I am from forgetful childhood memories.
I am from remembering the time when each day was long, when my world was only playground
and my life was music.
And from playing softball summer nights at the local park to avoid my father and his new wife.
I am from a father who was never supportive, a father who had trouble communicating, a father
who has been an alcoholic on an off for many years.
And from the roller coaster of emotions he put us through
I am from walking away from his life to make his choice easier when his new wife forced him to
choose between us.

Page |5
I am from a mother who left me with my father at the age of 3
from sleepless night crying myself to sleep, wishing my mom would tuck me in to sleep
and from teenage years yearning for some kind of support.
I am from two blended families, of passion, of love, of conflict and guilt
from many unanswered questions that have been buried in the past
I am from choices made and lost,
and now I choose where
I am from.

Page |6

Writings from Hear My Voice: A Multi-Cultural Anthology of

Literature from the U.S.

Love:
Never Offer Your Heart to Someone Who East Hearts By Alice Walker Pg. 120-121
I selected Never Offer Your Heart to Someone Who Eats Hearts by Alice Walker. The poem is
about men, about romantic love, about being hurt by love, betrayals and, about having your trust
abused. I selected this poem for the reason that it struck a chord in may past relationship. I felt I
gave him my heart and he teared it up to a million pieces. I felt hurt, regret, and manipulated
after two long years of dating. he will sop up your grief with bread and send it shuttling
(p.120) in this part of the poem it puts in mind when I finally ended the relationship. He didnt
show any remorse of the pain he had caused in my life. After ending the relationship, I worked
on myself, I try to give advice to others to try to keep them from getting hurt. This poem and my
feelings of past relationship are alike for the reason that we were both hurt by love and betrayed.

Family:
A Moving Day By Susan Nunes Pg. 135-140
I selected A Moving day for the reason that it represents a challenge that I encountered when I
moved out from the apartment my sons fathers and I rented. In the story the family must decide
what do with the last mementos of Japan. What to dispense of the old life, the old self, and what
to preserve. I shared an apartment with my sons father for two three years, we had wonderful
moments. I recall bringing my son home from the hospital for the very first time, decorating his
room with blue and green colors to match his bed set. And I also had unpleasant moments from
arguing about simple responsibilities at home to arguing about walking away from the
relationship, just being unhappy. When I ended the relationship and decided it was time to move
out, I could not bare throw away all the pictures we had taken together as a family, gifts he had
given me, clothes he bought me, furniture etc. On the other hand we werent a family anymore,
why keep it. My sons father also wanted to keep some of the stuff he purchased. There were
arguments of who was taking what. I had to compromise to avoid any further arguments, It
begun slowly, this shedding of the past (p. 138). I left with twenty five percent of my
belongings, almost nothing. When I moved to my own apartment I felt empty, it took a few

Page |7
months to adapt however as time passed I made new memories in my new apartment with my
son.
In the story the character is moving out and she does not know where she is going. My situation
was different for the reason that I knew where I was relocating to begin my new life.
Furthermore, the character had a dilemma discarding of things that her mother conserved from
the family. Before moving out I had dilemma of leaving things that I had personally bought
when I lived with my sons father.
The similarities of the story and my story is that we both had a predicament when moving out
and letting go of the possessions.

Generations:
A Moving Day By Susan Nunes Pg. 135-140
I selected A Moving Day for a second time for the reason that
is also interrelates with my obligation as a Latina woman and
as a mother trying to preserve our culture. The mother in the
story told stories to remember other by and to understand the
past. However the authors sister realizes that after her
mother is gone their culture may permanently lost. After they
moved to Honolulu their mother stopped teaching the little
things for the reason that she was always busy working long
hours. She states It would be terrible if centuries of culture
are lost simply because there is not time (p. 140).I grew up
with stories told by my grandparents to honor and remember
family members who have passed. Every time I would travel to El Salvador my great
grandmother told my father and I stories of my grandfather when he was a teenager. My
grandmother would recount stories of the village she grew up in and how she and my grandfather
fell in love and had this amazing wedding. As my son grows older I feel that we have lost some
part of our culture because my grandparents are no longer around to tell stories, there wasnt
enough time spent with them to convey the knowledge they had and memories they shared with
me. I share stories with my son, the very few I remember.
Although the author and I are from different cultures I feel her mother and I share the same
cultural values, by trying to preserve our culture.

Page |8

Borders:
We Wear the Mask By: Paul Laurence Dunbar pg. 60
I selected We Wear the Mask by Paul Laurence Dunbar. Although it is short
poem, I interconnected too it. The poem refers to hiding your real feelings
behind a false expression. We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides
our cheeks and shades our eyes (p.60). Many people are scared to express
their feelings for different kinds of reasons. Growing with two blended
families I had to pretend I was content. I had to pretend like splitting my
holidays and weekends with my mother and my father. I had to pretend I
felt comfortable around my stepfather. All through my junior high and high school years I
pretended my father never had a drinking problem however, deep down inside I would worry and
wonder if my father would be home drinking by the time I arrived.
The author story differs culturally from my story for the reason that he is African American, and
he was rejected due to the color of his skin. His poem explained why and how he choose to hide
his feelings. I in the other hand am Latina/Hispanic, both of my parents migrated from El
Salvador for a better opportunity in life.
Similarities in our stories is that although we were hurting deep down inside we smile to prevent
other from knowing we are hurting inside. With torn and bleeding hearts we smile (p. 60)

Page |9

Timeline and Stories

Click on link to view the timeline.
http://bit.ly/1LRoi8t or http://bit.ly/1jzRo1a
My stories
The First Time I Traveled
I was approximately 5 years old when my uncle
and father decided to travel to El Salvador. I was
ecstatic, I wanted to meet my grandparents for the
first time. I would always overhear my uncle
speak to my great grandmother on the phone, Si
mama Chela. Si. I constantly wondered if my
living situation would be different if my
grandparents lived with my uncle and my dad.
How would it feel to have them hold you, to read
you a story, or tuck you in at night? The day to
travel had finally arrived. My uncle, dad, I packed for a whole month. The three of us were
dropped off at LAX for the red eye. We began to board, I recall walking into the tunnel and
feeling nervous, the vibration in the tunnel that connected to the air plane was frightening. As I
walked closer, I panicked, I turned around whispered I want my mommy. warm tears rolled
down my cheeks. I froze, I turned around and I looked up at my dad and my uncle. Ya vaz a
comenzar (you are going start!) my dad said in an annoyed tone of voice. My uncle picked me
up in his arms and assured me everything will be fine. I recall sitting in the middle, I had my dad
sitting to my left and my uncle sitting to my right. I fell asleep, when I woke up we are flying
over El Salvador. My uncle sitting next to the window allowed me to peek over and look at the
spectacular beaches. I recall looking down looking at waves, the white foam, small boats sailing
along the coast line, sitting still.
The airplane landed. As we began to board out of the air plane and walk through that tunnel, I
felt a big wave of humidity slap me in the face and felt my curly begin to frizz. It was extremely
humid, I recall my uncle telling my father it had rained the night before we landed. As walk out
of the airport I saw the huge sign El Salvador.

P a g e | 10

The Decision that Changed My Life Forever

In my sophomore year of high school my life completely changed. Three months before my
seventeenth birthday, I found out I was pregnant. I didnt tell anyone, I was terrified I didnt
know what to do. Didnt know who I could trust. I knew my family would be disappointed. One
week after taking the home pregnancy test, the school had a teen pregnancy program speak to all
the girls during gym class. The women giving the presentation spoke about adoption, receiving
help, and all other options a pregnant teenager had. Halfway through the presentation I began to
reminisce all those nights I cried myself to sleep, longing for my mothers embrace. I couldnt
grasp the idea of giving up my child making him/her suffer the way I did because my mother
chose to leave me behind. How could she? I asked myself. Warm tears rolled down my eyes, I
wiped the tears from my face with my right hand sleeve. I stood up quietly and quickly and ran
to the girls locker room. I sat in front of my locker, crying softly so no one could hear me. My
gym teacher walked in and asked if I was ok. I felt an immense knot in my throat, I was unable
to speak, unable to breath. I felt a weight in my chest that locked my throat.
This pain I had been carrying for so long suddenly came forward by the
slightest reminder. I was finally able to speak and told her I was pregnant.
She sat next to me and said everything will be ok, whatever you decide to
do it is your choice and remember you are not alone. That is the day I made
the biggest decision of my life. I decided to keep my child and promised
myself no matter what I was never going to give up or walk away.

Graduation Day
The moment of truth, the stepping stone. The piece of paper that would remind me forever that
I've accomplished something. As we are standing outside the Greek theater waiting for this
moment, I have mixed feelings. Feelings of embarrassment and disbelief that I have gotten this
far. Its not easy being a single parent. I looked down at my watch, it was 4:45pm, look down a
few minutes later, 4:55 pm, and look down once more, its 5:00 pm. The graduation song by the
composer Edward Elgar began to play on warm summer day. My heart began beating as if it was
going to jump out of body and my hands began shake. I took a small glimpse of everyone
waiting in line to walk in the theater. Everyone was speaking amongst each other, others were
fixing their cap and gowns. Who would have thought, weve known each other for 10 years and
we are walking the stage together, said my friend. I smiled and agreed with her. I took another
glimpse of all the students graduating. We are finally I am moving forward I told her. As we
began to walk into the theater, I looked to my left and noticed more than a thousand family
members and friends cheering us on. I was a bit emotional, my eyes became a little teary. We
walked slowly in a single file line towards our seats, all the graduates stood and waved at their
family members. Everyone was smiling, giggling, talking amongst each other. I was worried for
a second because I was not able to find my family and the most important person in my life, my
son. The Welcome speech was given by the Los Angeles City College President Renee Martinez.

P a g e | 11
She mentioned there were a total of 558 graduates walking the stage. I was astonished to know
so many students were graduating. Everyone cheered and gave high fives to each other. The
following person that stepped up to the podium was the LACCD Chancellor Dr. Francisco
Rodriguez, who mentioned a few things that grabbed my attention. He was 10 years old when he
watched his mother walk across the stage as she graduated from LACC. He said his mother was
the best role model he ever had. Watching her as she walked a crossed the stage when her name
was called was one of her greatest achievements. There was applause and cheering, whooping,
hollering, clapping, stamping of feet, intense excitement buzzed through the charged air. My
emotions swirl like ocean currents, deep and strong. My son came to mind, I realized was setting
that example for him. I want him to understand that that education is the key to success. The
chancellor challenged us to dream bigger he said if your dreams dont scare you that means they
are not big enough. Senator Kevin De Leon was the guest speaker and spoke about his life, his
struggles when he was in college, he mentioned he was the first to graduate from high school and
attend college. I am proud to say I am the oldest of my siblings and the first to graduate from
community college. As the oldest, I want to be my siblings role model and hope they follow my
footsteps. One thing I will never forget in Senator Kevin De Leo, speech when he stated If you
fall seven times, make sure to get up eight times. As he spoke I realized, this is one of the most
important days of my life this ceremony means changes, this is a stepping stone to achieving my
goals and I will not stop there. After his speech there were infectious grins, students shaking
hands, patting one another on the back, and spontaneous outpouring of emotion. That one
summer in 2014, I graduated from Los Angeles City College.

P a g e | 12

Symbolic Self Portrait

Confidence
Strength
Uniqueness
Independent

I am adventures, ambitious, and hard-working

I wonder if I will have more children in the future.
I hear people judge me because my tattoos
I see everyone as an equal human being
I want to travel the world before I grow old
I am adventures, ambitious, and hard-working
I pretend drive a hot rod when I am stuck in traffic in the 101 freeway
I feel my grandparents are watching over me from heaven
I touch (an imaginary touch)
I worry that someday my sons father will try to walk back into his life after being absent for 12
years
I cry when I see children suffer due to their parents neglect
I am adventures, ambitious, and hard-working
I understand that material goods doesnt bring happiness
I say We should accept other regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, class
I dream that one day I will purchase my own home
I try to be the best mother to my son
I hope my son notices all I have done for him
I am adventures, ambitious, and hard-working.

P a g e | 13
In mid-2002, I began to have problems with my sons father. I was still attending high
school, began a part time job at retail store and made new friends. I clearly remember around that
time my English and Geometry teacher pushed for all of us to start preparing for college, how to
fill out the fafsa forms etc. My friend and I looked into and began taking night classes at a
community college to help us graduate for the upcoming year. While attending community
college, I made new friends, joined clubs, and participated in a few events. Attending college
was eye opener for me; I looked at everything in a different perspective. There were endless
possibilities. When I attended class in the evenings my sons father would stay home and watch
my son. Little by little he began controlling me. Behind closed doors he tried to set rules for
what I could wear, insult me if I wore something he considered to be provocative. Accuse me of
cheating, which was the last thing on my mind. I was extremely busy, raising a child, continuing
with my education, trying to better myself for my son and my future. I thought it was a just a
phase, he would get over it in a few hours. The home I grew up in was similar situation my
stepmother and father were always arguing, one day they were happy the other they were upset
at each other. I can see why I thought it was acceptable to treat other that way. I wanted the
relationship to work, I didnt want son grow up in a home like I did. However, one night
everything changed. He was irate that I hadnt responded to his texts when I was visiting my
mother with my son. When we arrive home, he took my son from my arm and punched me in the
face. I was afraid he would hurt my son if I said or did anything. I cried myself to sleep. I was
too embarrassed to talk about it with my family, I was afraid he would hurt my son. I pretended
nothing ever happed but deep down inside I was frightened, I wanted to leave him. A few weeks
later, advocates from Break the Cycle came out and spoke at the high school I was attending.
Spoke about, dating violence, pattern of abusive behaviors, violent words, controlling behaviors,
sexual abuse etc. One of the speakers told her story; her words gave me courage to move forward
and get out of the abusive relationship I was in. I continued living with him for approximately six
months, I didnt have anywhere else to go; I was embarrassed to tell my family. I opened a
separate bank account and a P.O. Box began saving money as much as I could. I knew I had to
walk away from the abusive relationship I was in. On my days off I submitted applications for
new apartments, I had to lie and pretend I was working or meeting with classmate for help with
my homework. I had to means of transportation; I rode the bus everywhere looking for a place to
live. All I wanted was to live in peace and raise my son in good home. I was tired of the mental
abuse. I didnt want my son to experience what I experienced throughout my childhood. I finally
received a call one of the apartments I had applied for; I remember I couldnt pick up the call
because he was around. I let it ring and ring, I panicked. The following day I called and was
given the good news. I asked a friend of mine to give me a ride to pick up the keys and drop off
the check. On our way to the apartment, I told her everything. I was afraid and ashamed to share
what was going on in my life. She promised she would help me move out once I was ready. I
week passed by and I purchased a few things for my apartment. I wanted to make sure my son
felt comfortable. The second week things were going sour, he kept questioning me and accusing
of being with another man. I begged him to stopped yelling in front of my son, every time he
would shout, I could see the fear in my sons eyes. But he continued, didnt care of the damage
he was causing. I couldnt take seeing my son in fear. I stood up to him and told him I was done,
my son and I were moving out. I locked myself in the restroom with my son, called 911 and my

P a g e | 14
friend. He was enraged and in disbelief that I called the police. I was afraid, I didnt know if he
was capable hurting me while I waited. When the police officer came, I walked out of the
restroom and explained the problem. He denied all the accusations. I asked them to stay as I
gathered my stuff to move out. I remember grabbing three bags and throwing in whatever believe
was important for me. He was made watching my pack the bags and didnt want to let me take
things he purchased out of his money. I let told him he can have it. I didnt want to take anything
that would remind me of him. I remember walking out of that home holding my son with the leg
arm and holding a plastic bag with our belonging on the right arm. It was a painful experience
because I thought I loved him and he loved however, the abuse physical and mental abuse
proved otherwise. Observing my son in fear and remembering my childhood the bad experiences
I dealt with is what pushed me to break the cycle of violence. This story defines who I am, I am
willing to go above and beyond, to fight for what I think is right. To give my son a better
childhood full of great memories. This believe this experience has made me a stronger woman.

During my teenage I felt completely misunderstood by my family. I grew up with two

blended families, my mother remarried and had my three daughters and my father remarried and
had one daughter. I recall having a deep need to fit in and belong however, I never felt I was a
part of either of my parents families. I lived with my father and his wife, I remember their
relationship was an emotional roller coaster. I recall the arguing, yelling, fighting, and the
drinking. There was a period of time when my father would wake up at the crack of dawn and
arrive home when the moon was out. After work he would eat his dinner, watch the nightly news
and go straight to bed. I felt lonely, I needed to know that I was loved by my father however, the
conversations got shorter and shorter as time passed. My fathers wife and I never grew close, I
had the wicked stepmother who always made feel left out. I was only allowed to see my
mother every other weekend, since I didnt spend time with her I didnt feel comfortable enough
to share my feelings with her. I experienced intense emotions, I wanted to be accepted by my
peers, took risks without thinking of the consequences, I was stressed. I worried about the
changes my body was going through, worried about school, my situation at home, and what
others thought of me. In addition, I was also trying find my own identity, I contemplated the
question, Who am I? Through that time I was fortunate enough to meet people who helped me
along the way to cope with the issues I was experiencing as a teenager. I became a mother at the
age of seventeen, I struggled however, I had the support from social worker who changed my
life. Now that I am parent and also studied adolescents development, I understand adults remain
crucial as caregivers, role models, educators and mentors. My goal is to work with teenagers
who dont have the support from their families, I want to help them move forward and be
successful in life. Ultimately I would love to work with teenage mothers and provide them the
support they need to move forward in life and be successful.

P a g e | 15

Stories and photos of my family

This is the video on how my sisters Gabby thought she saw Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.
http://www.eyejot.com/mview/37F00B7062EDED567B3604FF2367691B268F15E319A01112A2A866B
9B1C25F1D

Mi Familia (My Family)

I grew up with two blended families and for that reason I chose to do two different collages that
represent my two families.
This collage represents my mothers side of the family. I have a total of three sisters and one
adorable baby nephew.

P a g e | 16
The biggest picture in the collage is one of my favorite of many that we have taken when we get
together. Although this was taken about 5 or 6 years ago it is still one of my favorites for the
reason that we were able to all get together to spend our day at Disneyland. That day brought
back memories when my sisters and I were in grade school, my mom had designated Mondays
for family night. We would play board games, charades, or watch a movie together. I have
realized as we grow older, we get busy with our lives because of modern demands. We are
always working, at school, and on weekends our time is taken up with for extracurricular
activities. There are times when we struggle with getting to spend some time together and just
enjoy each others company. The day that picture was taken our family was able to spend time
together, act goofy, and create precious memories.
The picture below is a most recent one taken for my sons 15th birthday. Our family loves to
bowl.

P a g e | 17

This is my fathers side of the family

The pictures bottom left two pictures my grandparents and great grandmother who rest in peace.
Top left is my father and my uncle. Top right is my father and my little brother. The picture in
the middle is my sister and I.

P a g e | 18

This is my little family

P a g e | 19

Reading the World writing

The art of teaching someone to read and write is a political act, an act of knowledge, and therefore as
a creative act (Freire 10). Before reading the words we have to read the world around us. In grade school, I
remember all curriculum was based off of dominant culture. The European-American culture. I dont recall
having a teacher ever incorporating all of the students cultures in the classroom. Whenever we had a test we
were forced to memorize the information, I dont recall getting engaged and understanding the subject. For
example, in junior high my history teacher taught about the American war, the first settlers etc. I couldnt relate
to his lecture for the reason that I am not from the European descent. My parents migrated from Central
America to the United States. I understood the material, memorize the information, had a passing grade on the
test. However, if someone were to ask if I remember what I learned, I can honestly say I dont remember a
thing.

P a g e | 20

Forgiveness poem
Dad, I forgive you.
I know you love your children dearly.
You tried to be a father to the best of your abilities.
It may not have been good enough for me nevertheless, I now understand it was the best you
could do.
I forgive you; I understand your intentions were never to hurt me

I know there are no instructions on how to parent.

As a parent myself; I know we (parents) need support as well, for that reason I forgive you.
I forgive you because I know you love me just as I love my son.

I forgive you for being an alcoholic on an off for so many years.

I know you didnt drink to harm me; you drink because you are flawed and hurting deep down
inside.
I have learned that alcoholism is a disease, it is chronic and it is relapsing.
I forgive you as I finally understood the disease, the effect of this brain disease.

I forgive you for the numerous car rides where I was terrified
wondering if we would make it home alive.
For all the times you embarrassed me in front of my friends.

I forgive you for letting your ex-wife come between us

for not speaking to me for two and a half years.
Although it hurt a great deal I still forgive you because you are my dad.

I have learned your pain.

After your chaotic divorce, I know you are lonely.
Through the ups and downs I am here to help, to hold you when you are feeling down and to
give you a hand when you need to get up.

Dad, I forgive you.

I am here to help you fight this battle you have been fighting for so long.
You can count on me, I will always be here.

P a g e | 21

Praise poem
Praise my fathers brother.
For assisting my father take care of me when I was little.
For taking me under your wing when my father and mother split
and letting my father and I settle in your apartment.
I appreciate you taking me to the hospital when I was ill and making me take all of the meds to
feel better.
I appreciate you taking me to El Salvador to spend time with my grandparents.
If it wasnt for you, I dont think I would have ever known who they were.
I thank you for always making me feel better when I longed for my mother.
Praise you for including me in holiday events so I wouldnt feel left out.
For helping me with my homework after getting home from work.
For making sure I read books at an early age
I thank you for your care and kindness
And understanding
It takes special qualities make an uncle like you.
I will always praise you for looking after my father and I when things didnt go right.

P a g e | 22

P a g e | 23

P a g e | 24