My Photobiography

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This is a picture of my sister, my brother and I. I am not sure what year but I must have been a year or so. My mother says so. Unfortunately this is the only picture of me as a baby. I was told that we did not have a camera back then. We couldnā€™t afford to have a camera and all the pictures were taken in studios, privately. This was one of those days my parents took us to the botanical garden in the beautiful city of Mersin in Turkey.Ā  I donā€™t know who took our picture. My mother does not even know now. My dress must have been white or light pink I am not sureā€¦my mother is not even sure now. My sisterā€™s dress is floral. It must have been dark red prints, maybe. Or black prints. My mother is not even sure now. My expression is priceless. The sun must have been shining on my face. A pair of squinty eyes with chubby cheeks. My sister and my brother are hugging me tight with one of their arms and they have one of their hands on top of my hand. This sure was something planned I believe. My sister is holding my other hand so I wonā€™t push their hands off of my hand and ruin the picture, I believe.Ā  Now that I look at this picture, I realized how my brother smiles the same way still to this day. His smile still gives me comfort and assurance. He has always been the one person in my life that makes me laugh. How come he couldnā€™t make me laugh during this photo shoot? He must have been exited to take his first picture also. This must have mean he does not have a baby picture at all. My mother says so.Ā 

Photobiography: My mom and I

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This photo of my mom and I was certainly taken years ago. We were living in our old house in Rosedale, NY. I absolutely love this picture of my mom and I because it just shows how much of a caring and loving my mom is. I remember our old dining room and that table clearly like it was yesterday, even that wooden chair that weā€™re sitting on. In this picture my mom was feeding me a banana. I always laugh at this picture only because as a child my mom always had to constantly babysit me eating or even had to feed me when I didnā€™t want to eat. This photo reminded me of how much I hated eating as a kid. For some odd reason, I just never wanted to eat. But, I assume thatā€™s how a lot of kids are when they were younger. My mom always had patience with me, no matter how slow and long it took me to eat. She would always make sure that I had a solid meal so that I wouldnā€™t be fussy or starving. I remember sometimes sheā€™d sit with me on the floor, just feeding me for hours because the TV or some toy would always distract me. This photo also reminded me of how much a genuine and kind person my mom is. My mom is an amazing person, my rock. Sheā€™s constantly taking care and looking out for our family no matter how old we get. Not only with us, with anyone. She would do anything possible to help someone in need. If I could give the world to my mom, I would. We may not have much, but she always tries to give back. My mom always puts everyone first before herself. I donā€™t know how Iā€™d ever be able to re-pay my mom for the amount of love and support she gives my brothers and I.

PhotoBiography: More like family

This was my oldest god brotherā€™s birthday celebration. If you couldnā€™t tell, Iā€™m the little girl making the craziest face. I couldn’t tell you when this photo was taken. All I know is that I had no front teeth and I didn’t care. I actually took advantage of the new gaps in my mouth, thrusting my tongue through to create the worst face I could possibly make. My youngest god brother is the one that Iā€™m holding on to. He always had the most serious face growing up, as if he was an old man. As I was observing us in the photo, I realized that he still makes that face to this day. Heā€™s definitely been someone who has always been that person that I can hold on to and act crazy with and he wouldnā€™t respond being afraid or alarmed. He understood me and my crazy ways, and still does now. As for the girl in the green top, she does respond, but itā€™s okay. Sheā€™s my god sister, and someone that Iā€™ve grown to appreciate as an outlet of emotion and a source of counsel. The face she makes in this photo reminds me that sheā€™s kind of like me. She has her crazy and eccentric moments, which helps me be really comfortable around her. I think this photo does a great job of capturing my relationship with these two people. They arenā€™t just friends or people that Iā€™ve known for a long time. They are my extended set of siblings. Iā€™ve had great laughs and great tears with these two. If there is ever something I need to get off my chest, or just want to talk, theyā€™re there for me, and I am for them. Weā€™ve been through a lot together, like when mutual friend of ours past away. I didnā€™t realize how important they were to me. The thing that shocked me the most was that I was the same for them. I held my god brother the same way through that struggle the same way I did in this photo (even though it was so much harder this time, heā€™s way taller than me). Ā We were shoulders to cry on and hands to hold. Iā€™m not even that close to cousins I grew up with. Yet these two were a part of a group of people who werenā€™t just in my life for a moment, but my lifetime. They are more than friends, theyā€™re my family.

 

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Photobiography: a lifetime ago

Inspiration: Scenes from the Smith Family Christmas By Zadie Smith

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This picture is from around 1994-95ish, when I was just a toddler. My older sister is holding me safely in her arms; she is 3 years older than I. My Uncle Alex is on the left, I think heā€™s in the process of creating ā€œbunny earsā€ for my grandmother who is to the right (that was all the rage!). I vaguely remember this day; we were visiting a park in the Bronx I believe. Iā€™m not sure who took it, but this photo speaks volumes to me. Looking at this, I remember how my grandmother didnā€™t want to be called ā€œabuelaā€, rather she preferred her grandchildren to call her Dubby (very possibly misspelled). I remember her singing “La Cucaracha” to make me laugh. My Uncle Alex was the coolest; he was always doing goofy stuff just like in the photo. I remember him throwing me in the air and tickling me until my ribs were sore, he still is my favorite Uncle Alex who is an expert at making people laugh whenever heā€™s around. But my favorite part of this image is my sister, whose head is resting on my shoulder and holding me like a little dolly she had to protect. And she did. We donā€™t get to see each other all that much anymore since we donā€™t live in the same state, but I remember our childhood. We went through a lot of things when we were younger, from living in bad neighborhoods to our father selling our things to fuel his drug addiction. I still remember asking my sister where our N64 went, or why things kept disappearing. She tried to protect me. She was older and knew better. I donā€™t know what I would have done in her situation, having a younger sister who completely depended on you. But the fact was that I had her, and she made my life easier. I didnā€™t have to worry because I knew my big sister would be there. And she still is.

Blogging for Thursday: photos and shawls

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For Thursday, please read the two story pairings:

Zadie Smith, ā€œScenes from the Smith Family Christmasā€ andĀ photograph; Jamaica Kincaid, ā€œBiography of a Dressā€ (andĀ listen to her read the story)

and Cynthia Ozick, ā€œThe Shawlā€ (932-935) and Louise Erdrich, ā€œThe Shawlā€ (1409-1413)

Then write a post, approximately 300 words or longer, either the photobiography or the object-biography, usingĀ the categories Homework Responses and the name of the author or authors you’re imitating or drawing on.:

The Photobiography: imitating the style and themes of Smith or Kincaid, who tell their stories through careful consideration of a photograph from their pasts, write a creative close-reading of an old photograph of yourself. Include the photograph if possible. Tag your post Photobiography.

The Object-biography: considering how both Ozick and Erdrich tell these story with the object of the shawl as an important object, both physically and symbolically, write a creative close-reading about an object of significance to you or your family. Include a photograph of the object if possible. Tag your post Object-biography.