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Analytic Autobiography: Kelly Stone
My Jewish Mother
I thought long and hard about my “Jewish mother.” When I think about growing up, I remember always having that strong fear of failure. The thing that I could not remember was where that fear came from. My parents were always very supportive of me. They constantly praised me. They always told me that I could be whatever I wanted to be. They were happy as long as I did my best. I was sure that I did not have a “Jewish mother.”
Then I got to thinking about who I was so worried about disappointing. The only person I could think of was my dad. I hated disappointing him. But why? He always supported me. He never criticized me.
He did criticize my friends, however.
My friend Sarah was a little boy crazy. She usually had at least two of them going at a time. If one broke up with her, she had a new one waiting in line. She could care less about school. To Sarah, school was just a place to meet more boys. Throughout our friendship, we were obsessed with boys. We were always on the phone with boys, hanging out with boys, talking about boys, arguing about boys, arguing with boys, etc. My dad hated Sarah. He always told me she would end up getting pregnant, drop out of school, and do absolutely nothing with her life. (It didn't quite happen in that order, but he was 100% correct.) He knew he couldn't keep me from seeing Sarah (we went to school together), but he definitely made his feelings about Sarah known. I stayed friends with her, but I definitely made sure not to end up like her. Today, she is 23 years old and in the middle of getting a divorce, raising her 2 year old daughter, without even a high school diploma, and is currently unemployed. She is still boy crazy, and already has a guy or two on the side.
James was my first real boyfriend. My dad hated him. He too, was a loser. He skipped school. He smoked. He had no manners. He cursed a lot. He never took anything seriously. My dad could not stand even being in the same room as James. Every time James spoke, I thought smoke was going to start coming out of my dad's ears, like in the cartoons. As soon as James walked out the door to go home, my dad would start into me. “What could you possibly see in that boy?” “Don't you think he's a loser?” “I think he's a loser!” “How could you date him?” We did not stay together long, but to my dad I'm sure it seemed like forever. Again, my dad was right. James dropped out of high school in the 10th grade. He began drinking heavily. He did drugs. He sold drugs. He hung out with other losers. He got arrested. I have not talked to him in years. My dad could not be happier.
I met my friend Teresa in 7th grade science class. We were lab partners. We did homework together. We were in all the same advanced classes. We had friendly competitions to see who got the better grades. She wasn't boy crazy. She made fun of me for dating James. Actually, she made fun of most of my boyfriends. In high school we continued to have classes together. We were in marching band together. We became exercise buddies. She was polite and sweet. She was a very positive influence on my life, and my dad loved her. I was so proud to have a friend that my dad approved of. Teresa became my best friend. We are still good friends today. She is now a journalism major at Western Michigan University, and my dad still loves her.
I have known my current boyfriend, Tyler, since I started high school, and we have been together for five years now. Tyler is very smart. He is one of the hardest workers that I know. He was the first one of my friends to have a real job, and he has been working hard ever since. He now works construction, and someday plans on starting his own construction company, just like his dad. Most weeks, he works between 40 and 60 hours, then he comes home and does random odd jobs for my dad, my sister, my grandparents, our neighbors, and occasionally he even gets to a few chores around our house. Not only is he my family's “Mr. Fix-it”, he is also our computer and electronics “go-to guy.” Yeah, my dad loves him too! I never thought my dad would like any of my boyfriends. I just thought it was one of those father-daughter things. No one would ever be good enough for his little girl. Turns out, I was wrong. He was just waiting for me to stop dating losers!
Until now, I never realized how much of an effect my dad had on me. I knew he had a lot to do with making me the successful person I am today, but I had no idea why. Thinking back now, I see that his constant remarks about my friends made a lasting impact on me. Not only did I make sure that I did not become a loser like some of the people in my life, I also wanted to have friends who were not losers. I think this was a good move on my dad's part. He knew that my friends were a big part of my environment, and he wanted good, hardworking people in my environment. So he did what any good dad would do; he encouraged the good people, and discouraged the bad.
When I talked to my dad about this essay, he recalled a saying that his mother always told him when he was growing up. Immediately, I remembered hearing him say it to me as I was growing up.
“Birds of a feather, flock together.”
I hated that saying. He always said that when he was yelling at me about one of my loser friends. I would say something like, “just because Sarah is a loser, doesn't mean I will be too!” And he always came back with “well, your grandmother always used to tell me that 'birds of a feather, flock together.'” By that, he meant that only losers hung out with other losers. If I wanted to be a winner, then I needed to hang out with winners. Now I see that my grandmother did the same thing to him that he did with me. She is definitely my “Jewish grandmother.”
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