Loren Guerra
S. Coleman
CDEV 26
19 July 2013
Growing Up As a Wolfe
It was in the middle of summer in Stockton and all the kids were on vacation from school. My brother and I were always outside with our friends (other neighborhood children), as soon as we woke up until the street lights came on. We were very active children, playing football, climbing trees and roofs, Chinese jump rope, tag and hide and seek, of course. But this particular day we were, well I don’t’ know what came over us, maybe bored or just plain mean. A couple of friends, my brother and I decided to put mud handprints all over a new neighbor’s wall. The wall was white and very big. We, kids put our own hands in mud, which we had to make because it was summer after all, and put mud prints everywhere. There almost no white left when we were finished. When the new neighbors saw what had happened they went to my parents and we got in trouble. The other kids denied that they did it. My brother and I ended up scrubbing the whole wall by ourselves.
My name is Loren and I am the middle child of my family. I have an older sister by three years and a younger brother by two years. I grew up with both my parents but it doesn’t feel that way. My mom and dad both worked. If my Dad was home, he was drunk, so I avoided him. If my Mom was home, she was crafting, reading or other stuff. I believe my sister raised me more than my parents did. My sister and I tried to keep my brother in check but he was a difficult child. My parents were not very religious but my grandmother was and because of that my sister and I went to church on our own. My mom believed in education but was not involved, at least not that I remember.
Growing up my siblings and I had to deal with an alcoholic parent. With that alcohol came an anger problem. The anger and drinking is a joke on my dad’s side of the family. They always say “The Wolfe way”, “he’s acting like a Wolfe” “That’s a Wolfe for you” (Wolfe is my maiden name). But my dad’s anger was serious. He threw plates of the food if it was not good enough. He would throw remotes and phone books. But one New Year’s my parents had been out drinking with friends. My siblings and I were still awake when they got home. I was sitting on the couch my dad walked in the door and put his hands around my throat and was trying to choke me out. My mom walked in the door and took him off of me but she never asked if I was ok. It was my sister who came to my aid when my parents left the room. So because of these things happening to me as a child, I rarely ever drink alcohol. I did inherit my dad’s anger problem but the older I get the more I learn to control it. Every time I seen my dad and brother they remind me that I love my children and do want them to grow up with the same issues.
We moved to California when I was seven. We moved into a duplex and that is where I met my friend Aneita. She was the same age as my brother, so she was younger than I. But she was the oldest of five so she was mature for her age. Aneita and I became best of friends. I was the sixth child to her family. I went with her to family parties. Sometimes even on holidays. We were inseparable. She also went on our family outings. Our mothers’ even bought us the same Christmas gifts. When I started my rebellious stage, which was around eighth grade, I started distancing myself from her. I thought she was too immature for me. I liked boys and she liked Barbies. I became self-centered. By the time tenth grade came I wanted my friend back