PNN Revolutionary Blog Series #6 / Serie de Blogs Revolutionarios


PNNscholar1 - Posted on 13 August 2010

People's School Summer 2010/ Escuela de la Gente Verano 2010

Por/ By  Guadalupe Benitez

 

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    Cuando mi mama fallecio senti un dolor tan grande al pensar que ya nunca iba a volver a verla otra vez,es dificil olvidar pero siempre la tengo en mi mente.

   Despues mi hermana me llego con ella a su casa en Apatzingan, Michoacan porque mi papa metia hombres a la casa. Un dia uno de ellos quiso abusar de mi, y mi papa lo queria matar.Despues nos venimos con mi hermana a los estados unidos, estuvimos viviendo en ritchmond por 2 años.
 
   Despues algo paso y nos tuvimos que mudarnos a San Francisco. Mi hermana y mi cuñado no me dejaban salir ala calle por miedo que la policia me mirara y me preguntara porque no estaba en la escuela. Lo que mas coraje me dio fue que un dia mi hermana me pego y me saco de la casa en la noche y me serro la puerta con llave.

   Yo no conocia nada ni como agarrar un buss,mi hermana  siempre me molestaba, una vez me acuerdo que yo estaba comiendo,y  mi hermana y mi cuñado me agarraron uno de las manos y de los pies y me aventaron a una tina llena de agua fria.

   Despues de eso yo me fui a un Foster home donde tienen niños que no tienen familia, estube viviendo en varios hogares,en unos de estos hogares llamado ”LOFT” recuerdo que era muy dificil por que habian reglas rigidas y niveles que yo tenia que escalar con sacrificio para tener un poco de libertad, aveces me sentia que estaba viviendo en una carcel porque no tenia suficiente libertad para salir con mis amigos ,para mi los fosters home son malos porque no atienden bien a los niños, a los de Foster home lo que les importa es agarrar su cheque cada mes.
 
   Lo peor para mi fue Gastinells Foster home hay me rovaban mis cosas y no se hacian responsables , cerraban la cocina para que yo no comiera, no me dejaban lavar mi ropa decian que estaba desconpuesta la lavadora, yo le decia a mi trabajador social y no me hacian caso,yo me compraba sopas maruchas y las preparaba con agua de la llave del baño. La experiencia que vivi en el Foster home no me gustaria volver a repetirlo.  

Ingles sigue

    When my mother passed away, the pain was so heavy knowing that I was never going to be able to see her again.  It is difficult to forget, I always carry it around in my mind.

    After her passing my sister brought me to her home in Apatzingan, Michoacan because my father had allowed men to come into our home and one day one tried to abuse me.  My father was going to kill him so I went to live with my sister.  Later I went with my sister to the United States and we lived in Richmond for two years.

    Later because of complications we had to move to San Francisco.  My sister and brother in law didn't allow me to leave the house because they were afraid that the police would pick me up and ask why I wasn't in school.  The hardest part for me was one day my sister hit me and then through me out of the house at night and locked the door.

    I didn't know anything about the city, not even how to catch a bus, my sister would always bother me.  I remember one time I was eating and my sister and brother in law both grabbed me by my feet and hands and threw me in a bathtub of cold water.  After this incident I went to live in a foster home for children with no famliy, I lived in various homes one of which was named "Loft".  I remember it being very difficult because there was strict rules and I had to sacfrice a lot to have just the littlest bit of freedom.  Sometimes it felt as though I was living in a prison because I didn't have enough freedom and I wasn't able to go out with my friends.  For me the foster system is messed up because they don't properly care for the kids and the most important thing seems to be the check that the foster parents are recieving for the kids.

    The worst was when I lived at Gastinells Foster home, there they confinsacted my things and didn't act responsible.  They would close the kitchen so that I couldn't eat and that didn't allow me to wash my clothes, they would say that the washing machine was out of order.  I told my social worker who did nothing. I ended up buying some soap and washing my clothes in the bathroom.  I don't ever want to experience again what I did in the foster care system. 

 

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