Personal Narrative: Struggle for the American Dream-"My Saturday Night"

Essay by ThinkinonlyboutuCollege, Undergraduate May 2007

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My Saturday Night“When I grow up, I want to have a big, big house with stairs and lots of kinds, and a big, big room, and, and…” As a child, I believe that was my biggest dream and goal in life. To be, as the saying says, “barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen” was what I wanted out of life. Living the perfect life—The American Dream.

I remember Saturdays with my family. During the day, my mom and I would head out to the mall to go shopping, and make that one phone call home at about five in the afternoon. Calling in to check up on the plans for the night. Oh how I loved those Saturday nights. Usually, Ben, my dad’s best friend would call and let us know the arrangements.

My dad had a group of friends from when he was in high school, which we would always get together with on a weekly basis.

How I loved them so much—as if they were my own uncles. Most commonly, we would go to one of my dad’s friend’s houses for a get together and order some pizza.

Those were my favorite nights, only because most often we would go to Ben’s house, which was 2 stories and about 6,000 sq.ft. The adults would hang around in the living room, dinning room, or the kitchen as the masses of children, of all ages, ran around the house playing, screaming, and occasionally crying. I was among the older kids leading the group and watching over the younger ones.

Growing up with these kinds meant a lot to me. I loved the authority of being able to direct the children, or being the mediator when they would fight. I even remember when some of them were born. One in particular,