Out of the Barrio. . .A Cop's Story - Silva, B.
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DUST JACKET EDITION It was hard growing up poor. I was the oldest of seven children and there was a lot of dysfunction. My parents were so wrapped up with each other's faults and fighting, they neglected us in more ways than one. There was never any money for the essential necessities to live comfortably. Sometimes there wasn't enough food for healthy servings and no affection or praises to go around either. I struggled through life as a young child because of my father's alcoholism. Life around the house was a roller coaster of emotions. By the time I reached adolescence I felt like an old…mehr

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DUST JACKET EDITION It was hard growing up poor. I was the oldest of seven children and there was a lot of dysfunction. My parents were so wrapped up with each other's faults and fighting, they neglected us in more ways than one. There was never any money for the essential necessities to live comfortably. Sometimes there wasn't enough food for healthy servings and no affection or praises to go around either. I struggled through life as a young child because of my father's alcoholism. Life around the house was a roller coaster of emotions. By the time I reached adolescence I felt like an old lady caring for my siblings, endless housework, and working to help my parents with every penny I earned. My parents never protected me from ridicule, they added to it and that left me with low self-esteem. To them I was the girl most likely never to succeed and the worst part about it was, I thought so too. As an adult, father warned that the only way I would get out of the house was to get married. I did and got my freedom. I didn't know the difference between friendliness and real love. I was blinded by the need to be wanted and loved and ended up having abusive relationships. I could not accept this as my lot in life. I knew there had to be something better. Giving up, throwing in the towel, or yelling 'uncle', were not options. After rearing two wonderful sons and seeing them through school, I was going to succeed or die trying. I finally came to my fruition. Let me take you through my journey. I want my epitaph to read: "She shot for the moon and landed in the stars."
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