humanity
Humanity begins at home.
Why Don’t I Have Friends Like Susan?
Why Don’t I Have Friends Like Susan? Kristyn Meyer is on a journey to make herself the best human that she can be. These posts are a reflection of that. She welcomes your support via reading and through commissioned affiliate links within her posts! To stay up to date on all of her shenanigans, please subscribe to her email list! (psst…there’s a free gift involved)
By Kristyn Meyer6 years ago in Families
Juts Kids!
That's what it was! Juts KIDS! I said to myself, "this is going to be easy, right". To be honest getting to work with kids for me wasn't very hard. For some kind of reason I found myself connected to it. But it will be better if i share with you how i get there.
By Hernán Arteaga6 years ago in Families
A Hated People
From a young age, I was taught the morals and foundation of Judaism. I attended a Jewish preschool, where I recited the prayers over the challah, wine (or grape juice for us 4-year-olds), snack and Shabbat. I earned the most mitzvah leaves in my class- each mitzvah leaf would be pinned up on our tree labeled with our name to keep track of all the good deeds we did. Being Jewish is giving back to the community and our families, providing support and prayers for those who need it, cooking delicious meals and using every opportunity to turn a Jewish holiday into a feast. Also adding a few comical Yiddish words into everyday conversation. The Jewish culture is rich in traditions, values, flavors and compassion. Coming from a reformed family mostly focusing on the familial element of Judaism and growing up in New Jersey, I imagined the whole world was favorable towards this seemingly peaceful religion. So when I found out my grandma is a Holocaust survivor and suffered through such a hatred, I had many questions.
By Emily Bright6 years ago in Families
Answer The Phone!
This article isn't for the people over 50 like myself that remember what it was like before there were cellphones. This is for the moms, dads, kids, friends, and everyone in-between that grew up in the cellphone generation. You know, those of you that go on Facebook and post pictures of your kids and your meals and have at least 100 friends. The people who live an active lifestyle and know how to post a selfie.
By Tracy Branstetter6 years ago in Families
Growing up Biracial
When I was little, I had no idea I was different. I didn't see race or question what I was as a child. I was just me. I was surrounded by my brothers or sisters everyday. Some of us were light, medium tone or what I would call Caramel or Mocha, and others were dark. All of us came out looking different but we knew that we were siblings. I didn't question it. I didn't question my Dad nor my Mom.
By Anatonia Garcia6 years ago in Families
We Didn't Know It Mattered
Here we go again. I'm sitting under the dining room table that my dad put in the basement for just this type of thing. I'm hiding from the war going on in my neighborhood. It's a literal war. I'm trying to just write and block out the noise. It's constant, the screaming and gunshots and more screaming. I don't understand why. I don't understand why it has to be like this. It wasn't like this last month. Last month, we had a big street party in our neighborhood. Last month, we all ate together. Last month our parents talked to each other. Last month I had friends. Last month I didn't know I was different. Last month, I was just a kid like any other kid. This month, I'm a kid with a black mom and a white dad.
By Phoenixx Fyre Dean6 years ago in Families
MY WINDRUSH SCANDAL
My dad Clayton, left his wife Ann, in Roseau, Dominica with five children whilst he, his two brothers and his best friend James travelled to England to look for work. That was in 1960. And after a year he sent for his wife and us kids. He told my mum" Leave the kids and come to England, I've set up home in Bradford and I'll send you the money to pay for your ticket on the boat to get here". I didn't know until recently that my mum refused to come without me and my siblings. "I'm not coming to England without the children," She told him. Although he didn't agree straight away he eventually gave in and agreed to send enough money for us all to travel. All except my eldest sister, she decided that she didn't want to come, so grandma looked after her. The rest of us, especially me, the youngest, at five didn't really have a choice. Mum made all the arrangements for us to journey there by ship, which would take us just over three weeks to get there. Once docked we travelled by train to meet up with our dad in Bradford.
By Albert Andre6 years ago in Families
A Lesson From Mama's Casserole
My fondest memories of my days at Cathedral School are in the Boys’ Choir during my 6th through 8th grade years. Being one of the only Black students in the school (including my younger brother) made me feel like an outsider, in both pedigree and skin color. So music and singing allowed me to connect with the school by bringing a gift that I had inherited from my great-uncle and dad, both professional jazz musicians. I was immediately drawn to learning treble and bass clefs, wearing the robes and ruff I had seen in the hallowed walls of choirs past. My fascination of this new world seemed like a sanctuary from the world I lived across the bridge in one of East Oakland’s poorest neighborhoods. And as my single mother strove to raise two young boys and give them a better life, I was slowly adapting to a culture that I had not yet understood nor even visualized for myself at that time. I was simply surviving.
By Will Hammond6 years ago in Families
The chair
I stood tall in the middle of Maize's back yard garden of her Victorian home in Chandon Nagar ,India.My sturdy trunk supported a foliage of luscious green leaves on very shapely branches with supple stems that stretched out over a wide circumference, enough to shade a good area of soft grass beneath me in the hot summer days.I was taken back in time to how I got to be so healthy and beautiful.
By Jacqueline Payne6 years ago in Families
