Materialism

            In my family the holidays are for getting together, enjoying a feast and celebrating a couple days out of the year where we’re not poor or lacking. When I was growing up I was a Jehovah’s Witness, meaning I didn’t celebrate holidays. Every holiday I’d see everyone being excited around me, but never being able to participate in it. In my opinion, not being able to celebrate made me appreciate it when our family switched religions to Christianity and then finally got to celebrate.

            Not celebrating any holidays and then being able to embrace the holidays, made my family and I view them more as a family event. When I was younger my mom would give everyone in my family money, and then we’d buy each other gifts. It was never materialistic; the reason why my mom had us start to celebrate the holidays was to realize money is just a piece of paper. Celebrating was always something different to us and being a Jehovah Witness makes us view them as just a party, no religious story or meaning behind them. There are never any issues concerning expensive gifts, in my family, because we only buy and ask for what we know each other can afford. Fortunately, my siblings and I usually go halves on purchasing the gifts for each other so someone in the family will get what they have always wanted.

            So when it comes to holidays and which author explained it most closely to me and my family it would be Lauren Smith. The way she explains how it’s to show appreciation is most accurate. Giving gifts is to show appreciation and to thank the people for being in your life. No matter how expensive a gift is, a good person will always appreciate it. What she said came close to my home, and I hope it came close to others as well.

           

Personally, I hate reality shows

Reality shows are the garbage of all television broadcasts; they portray families and people that aren’t real! It’s been proven many and many times again that reality shows are scripted. To imagine people believe these shows devastates me. How can you believe that Snooki from Jersey Shores actually slept with all those guys while still with her boyfriend during the show? No, I don’t believe for one second that any of those reality show people are actually those people in real life. The shows are fake advertising and it sickens me!

For instance, let’s talk about Teen Moms these are girls are 16 and pregnant. Last time I checked, sixteen year olds are sophomores in high school. Not to mention, these girls in this “reality show” have cars and their one home; no sixteen years old can afford their very own home and car. Everything about reality shows are lies and scripted. The people starring in these shows are actors and actresses pretending to not have a script. As for me, I’d rather not support those shows by being a viewing audience. Instead, I watch scripted shows because I don’t like the false lies that “reality shows” give the world. I’d rather know people are acting. Also, I don’t feel comfortable watching other people’s problems. That’s pretty much what “reality shows” are; just people dealing with misery and problems. “Reality shows” are what I considered to be a new form of brainwashing and United States propaganda to control its citizens.

“Reality shows” are literally a waste of time and the government’s money. People who waste time watching “reality shows” are better off watching a documentary or Vice; Vice shows reality, but its real reality. When I say real reality, I mean the people in these videos are showing real-time events and misery happening around the world. It’s better to watch real than fake, and that’s what “reality shows” are, they’re fake! To clarify, the reason I know so much about these shows is because, I unfortunately have friends who feed these reality shows gossip down my throat. 

Homelessness

            It’s hard for some people to think that some homeless people aren’t druggies or felons and are literally just struggling to survive and can’t afford to live in today’s world. Nowadays it’s hard to live within luxury, everyone is struggling. Around the world people are without homes and often looked down on and treated horribly whether it is verbal or physical. In my home we struggle to survive, my family has gone homeless twice.

            Before my mom, little brother and I went homeless, I thought all homeless people were worthless because they were all on drugs. Never would I have thought that my family would be homeless twice. It never crossed my mind that some of those homeless people really just lost their home because they couldn’t afford to have one. That’s how my family lost our home, we just couldn’t afford it. As for my opinion on homelessness, it didn’t change from them being worthless until my family went homeless the second time. The second time we went homeless then I started to change my opinion. Every Sunday we would go to a church that would feed us lunch/breakfast and many other homeless people would go too. That is when I realized not everyone on the streets is a bad person; some homeless people are just struggling like my family was.

            Being homeless really changed my outlook on life, before I would judge a book by its cover, now I think twice before judging. You never know what that person has gone through or went through or how they got in that situation. Some homeless people are people who can’t afford to live and it’s saddening. A lot of my opinions on life has changed from being homeless, I can literally say “You never know what you have until it’s gone.”

Maybe, Berry

The saddest event in my life is the time I thought my dog was going to die. Firstly, let me explain how it all started. When I was a junior in high school I would always be complaining to my mom who was a short, dark skinned, beautiful Puerto Rican woman, how I wanted a dog. Well, one day she got me one. The dog was grey with blue eyes, a tiny little Chihuahua girl. She was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. My mom would always joke about whether we would keep her or not. To add onto this joke my mom even named her Maybe. Unfortunately, my moms joke was serious, we didn’t keep her. My mom told me she couldn’t afford the rent so she sold her to my uncle. I was crushed and went into depression. Three months passed from then and I just couldn’t cope with the loss of my dog.

Then one day while I was walking home from school, my mom called me hysterically telling me to get home immediately! When I asked why she said “I got you an early Christmas present.” I didn’t care about a Christmas present at the time because I was still depressed over losing Maybe. Finally I got home and I saw my older sister named Hope and my little brother named Michael. Hope was 22 at the time with looks very similar to me; she had brown skinned, big brown eyes, and short black curly hair. Michael was 12 with the same skin tone as me and everyone else in the family with long black straight hair. So, there were my siblings holding a black and brown fluff ball. My brother was touching it and saying “It’s the cutest thing EVER”! When they finally noticed me they showed me her. She was my early Christmas present, a silky haired terrier. Although at the time she just looked like a stuffed teddy bear. My mom promised me she was here to stay, but I didn’t believe her.

After three days of having this little fluff ball jumping around we decided to name her, Berry. Giving Berry an actual name was my moms way of proving to me we were actually going to keep her. I still wasn’t getting attached, however since she was claimed to be my dog I was the one forced to train her. One day I took her out for her midnight potty. There was dead silence in the house because everyone was asleep. At the time I shared my room with my sister Hope. So, I had to be quiet when taking berry outside.

When I took Berry outside she peed and everything seemed fine, until when I called her back into the house. Berry walked into the house and immediately started pooping. I was furious because she was just outside! However, when she pooped the poop was bloody and sticking to her butt. Scared, I ran to get a bag to clean the poop off her butt. The second I pulled the poop from her butt she yelped, I freaked out and dropped the bag and she ran straight into the bedroom. Of course, I ran after her. I then turned on the lights and caught her running under my bed. My sister yelled “What’s wrong with you! Turn off the lights!” I replied “No!” and explained how I think she’s sick and I saw blood from her poop. I was crying telling my sister because I was so scared. She started crying too and we both then went to wake my mom. My mom said we would take Berry to the vet in the morning. However, I was terrified of thinking she wouldn’t make it through the night. Hope and my mom went to sleep, but I stayed up all night with my arm stretched out under the bed holding Berry.

Immediately in the morning my mom and I took Berry to the vet. When we arrived they said it would be awhile and to come back in an hour. Instead of leaving somewhere else we walked to the nearby park. We found a bench to sit on and I held Berry never wanting to let go. It was very gloomy that day, the clouds were gray and heavy and looked as if they were going to cry. As I was holding Berry crying, I vowed to her I wouldn’t lose her. I told her nothing bad was going to happen, I wouldn’t allow it!

An hour passed and we went back to the vet. The Veterinarian was a tall, young and light skinned man. He examined her, and then shared with us his results. She was sick because she ate a hot cheetoh! I couldn’t help but be angry. My dog was a drama queen, she ran under the bed because she had an upset stomach! The vet gave her shots that were needed for newborn puppies and then sent us on our way. Till this day my family jokes about it, they say the eight hundred dollar hot cheetoh because that’s how much the visit cost me. What this event had taught me is that I must not hold onto past events. I must let go of grudges to let in new beginnings and welcoming’s. I would definitely act the same was if it happened again. However, I would wait a day or two to see if the problem persists before jumping to conclusions.

Names

Names

My first name story is pretty common, especially in males. To start off, when I was born I had two older siblings one boy the other girl, the girl being the oldest. My mom named her first son after my uncle on my dad’s side who got carried away from a riptide while swimming in the ocean. So, since my mom thought I was going to be her last child after my brother, she named me after my father Michael Rodriguez. However, I wasn’t her last my little brother is. My little brother is also named after my dad. So, technically my brother and I have the same name. Mine however is the feminine version of Michael, known as Michelle.

Though my little brother and I are named after the same person, it never bothered us. My dad would always make jokes about it by calling us his M&M’s, one with peanut the other without. We were also nicknamed Malice and Mayhem because my little brother and I are partners in crime. My brother and I would play video games and argue a lot, but we also had very good times. For example, every time he was sick I’d stay home and make a treasure map of food to find. Once we found the treasure chest of food we’d have a picnic in the house and watch a movie. I think in a way, us having the same name made my little brother and I closer. We always joke about it to this day. I also got bullied a lot in elementary because of my name being spelt like the boy name Michael. Even though I was bullied, I never started hating my name. Despite those cruel kids making fun of my name I always loved my name.

Thinking about it now, I actually consider my first name story interesting. I never really thought about my first name and its story until now. I would say the reason I never started hating my name is because I was named after my dad. I love my dad very deeply. I got more along with my dad than my mother. I am very fortunate to say that my dad will always be there for me and always is. If you ask me, would I ever change my name; NO! I wouldn’t ever change my name for anything in the world or anyone’s in the world. Sharing a name with my brother is pretty awesome.

My Story

My Story

            My name is Michelle Rodriguez. I was born and raised in Oxnard California with two older siblings’, one sister the other brother and my little brother. I haven’t moved from Oxnard since I was born here. When I was going to elementary school I got bullied very often because I had a speech impediment. When I was in junior high my parents got a divorce and rarely talk to this day. However, even with these bad experiences my immediate family was always there for each other. Our home was never broken and we never felt forgotten.

Let’s fast forward to the present, now I am twenty-one years old and attending Oxnard College. Though earlier this year my family went through homelessness twice I never stopped going to school. My mother is always encouraging me to do better for myself, the sky is the limit! Thanks to my mother, I continue and will continue going to Oxnard College. I just recently started the Oxnard College Community Garden Club on campus and it is thriving. I have unfortunately had unpleasant experiences in my young life, but who hasn't?

            What my life has taught me is that no matter what happens, your family will always be there for you. Even though bad things happen you must not dwell on it. Thanks to these bad experiences I am who I am today. I appreciate everything I have been through and I am very proud of myself for it. My name is Michelle Rodriguez and I wouldn't trade my life for anyone else’s. In my future I hope to go on more adventures and have more experiences. Also, I plan to get a job in the medical field as an x-ray technician. I've always pictured myself living in a cottage type home in San Francisco with a beautiful garden to groom.