struggles.

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Photo borrowed from Daniel Hagerman.

Throughout my life, I have always seemed to be judged and labeled as a “doctor’s daughter” and indeed, I am.  After my ignorant years of grade school, I realized that most people did not mean that title in a complimentary way.  I was assumed to be spoiled rich girl who got anything she asked “daddy” for.  However, no one actually knew how I was raised or the struggles my parents went through to get to the point they are today.  Contrary to popular belief, my father was not born into a family of white-collar workers or a prominent last name.  In fact, his life as a child was quite the opposite.  During the 1950’s, my father was born and raised in slums of Brooklyn, New York while his father was out at sea as a United States Merchant Marine.  Later in his life, my father moved six times before graduating from high school in Austin, Texas.  There he attended the University of Texas where his girlfriend of the time convinced him to pursue medicine.  Although I have never lived with any of the struggles that my father grew up with, he embedded the values he learned in me.  My father’s experiences on either side of the economic divide taught him, and consequently me, that the most important things in life could not be bought.  I was raised to always be thankful for a roof over my head and food on the table while maintaining the knowledge that nothing will come without hard work and sacrifice, just as my father had to live.

Reflection

This website is being created for CTW 1 at Santa Clara University for Marc Bousquet.