Who am I? A simplistic question yet filled with complication. Perhaps the reason I am the person that I have become today is due to my distinguished childhood. My father an African-American, who served in the Vietnam War as a soldier, met my mother, while he was stationed in Vietnam. Subsequently after the Vietnam War my parents arrived in America and days later married. I am the second to last of six siblings, three brother and three sisters. As a child I was often cared for by my oldest sister, because my parents worked long hours together at our family-owned Deli. I would cling to my parents every opportunity I received to be with them, which was primarily on the weekends. .
My weekends as child mostly consisted of sports activities such as football, basketball and baseball; which my father consistently attended. My mother usually tended to the home and bonded with my sisters. Some days I would often plead to go to the deli with my parents just to be near them. In the spring of 1990 my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, she died two years later on August 28, 1992. The day my mother died was very overwhelming and depressing. I remember not wanting to return to school in the fall or wanting to play my favorite sports. I deeply regretted the tantrums and the preceding days I had not spent with my mother. The death of my mother set the precedent of my consequent independence.
The days following my mother's death my sister took on a major role of being caretaker to my siblings and me. My father closed the Deli for personal reasons and .
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began working for General Motors. Growing up I felt an obligation to take care of myself to alleviate some of the responsibility that my sister had inherited. I began to try to be less dependant on my father and got small and odd jobs around the neighborhood. These jobs consisted of yard work and collecting cans, which my brother and I often did together.
