This is an essay by Thomas Bennett, a finalist for the 2018 WeParent Scholarship. He is a student at Perry Technical Institute.
When I was twelve my life changed dramatically. I was like most kids at that age; I played at least two sports a year, went to birthday parties, started thinking and talking about the opposite sex, and I had two parents who were married. My parents were actively involved in the church and I really did not envision what was to come.
This is an essay by Valerie Weddle, a finalist for the 2018 WeParent Scholarship. She is a student at Perry Technical Institute.
My mom and dad got divorced when I was two years old. While my mom and dad were married, they had my brother and me. While my mom was married to my first step dad, they had two daughters together. My mom remarried two more times after that, and I had two stepsisters the first time and now have three stepsisters with the fourth marriage. My dad remarried when I was about 15 years old. He had one child with my step mom and I gained another stepsister from her. I am the oldest of all of the six children.
This is an essay by Grace Van Hofwegen, a finalist for the 2018 WeParent Scholarship. She is a student at Tulsa Community College.
When I think back to my early years of elementary school, many memories of my parents fighting and bad-mouthing each other resurface. I can vividly recall several times where my father called the police on my mother, my mother sobbing to an 8-year-old me who had no idea which parent was right – was my mom “crazy”? Was my dad a “horrible man”? I couldn’t talk to anyone about it, not even the seven therapists I saw between the ages of 7 and 11. They all said they understood how I felt, but I knew they did not. I could tell by the fake sympathy plastered on their faces that they put on every day for their jobs as therapists that they had no idea how I felt.
This is an essay by Payton Ford, a finalist for the 2018 WeParent Scholarship. He is a student at Stetson University.
All of us have been affected by our parents in some shape or form. Whether it is our personal beliefs, the traditions that we practice, or an uncanny habit that we picked up from them, our caretakers have helped to shape us as people and allowed us to become the individual that we are today. For me personally, I have only had one parent involved in my life, allowing me to learn some valuable life lessons along the way.
This is an essay by Nakia Simmons, a finalist for the 2018 WeParent Scholarship. She is a student at Columbus State Community College.
As a child I’ve been through so many hardships, all in which made me who I am today, which is a wonderful single mother. I am someone who works for what I want and deserve. I am also a young lady that loves school and will finish college regardless of my circumstances. I was raised in a single parent household, by my grandmother. Both of my parents were on drugs and not fit to raise me or my siblings.
This is an essay by Kendall Polidori, a finalist for the 2018 WeParent Scholarship. She is a student at Columbia College Chicago.
Growing up with divorced parents shaped my life in ways that I would have never thought possible. My mom, raising me basically on her own, taught me the importance of being independent, dedicated, and goal oriented. Though at the time when everything first happened it seemed like it would never get better and that I was forced to grow up too fast, I came out on the other side a better person than if it didn’t happen.
This is an essay by Kristina McGee who was awarded the 2018 WeParent Scholarship. She is a student at California Lutheran University.
When I was one week old, my birth mother wrapped me in a blanket and left me in the public square of a small town in China. A passerby carried me to an orphanage, where I spent the first year of my life. Of course, I do not remember any of that, but from what I know of China at the time, I believe my birth mother was young and single. Keeping me would have left her stigmatized and unable to provide for me. I like to think she had a loving heart, and I can only imagine the pain of abandoning her baby just because she did not have a mate.
Yet my life as a child of a single parent had just begun. On my first birthday, my adoptive (and single!) “forever mom” arrived in China, took me in her arms, and promised to love me forever. We flew 36 hours to Philadelphia, then drove to the only home I have ever known. I can only hope that somehow my birth mother knows that I am happy, fortunate beyond all dreams, and now a college freshman!