For many of us, our childhood was a very specail part in our lives. As we grow older, we tend to forget some or many events that had happened in our past. But those who where there to see us grow remember our first steps, words, etc.
Through their memories we can sometimes look deep into our minds and remember that momemt or something about that moment.
Other than being told of my childhood moments, other ways that help me remember my past could be a song, a toy or an object, a smell, or seeing a person after a long period of time. Other times, I can just remember a random moment or memory but not know its significance, contents or anything except that moment.
Although its not a memory that I can remember, my mom once told me that when I was a baby my oldest brother asked her if he could buy a video camera so they could record all my childhood memories. He wanted to record my childhood so that when i grew up, i would be able to see ho I was, how my family was and how our life was. I do remember being vedio taped all the time. I always enjoyed being in front of the camera, even if it was for no reason. There were times when we would all be eating dinner, or watching a movie and someone would take out the camera and I would start acting silly or dancing. Even though we prabably dont have those vedio tapes anymore, I remember looking through them and seeing how everything was and ii think about what my mom told me.
During this thanksgiving we were all at my uncles house and by seeing all the little kids playing, everyone began to talk about each others childhood, or atleast what they could remember. When my eldest brother began to talk about the past, he compared my childhood to all of theirs and how much our lives differ and how good I had it. Since I was the youngest of four, I had all the advantages.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Dreams first draft
”Dreams are the royal road to the unconscious”- Freud
While we sleep the unconscious self takes a journey exploring thoughts in our minds. I believe that dreams are important, most of the time they represent something. Or try to tell you something. Through dreams the unconscious self is able to reveal hidden desires, wants/wishes, fears. Sometimes a dream can also show a memory that we experienced while we were awake. Our dreams are able to create an alter reality where we are able to runaway from life’s problems. Since we repress these feelings while we are awake, while we are in the dreaming state our conscience spills the repressed thoughts and feelings into our unconscious mind. Many people don’t remember their dreams, and when they are able to remember, often overlook it. “Sleep is often the only occasion which man cannot silence his conscience, but the tragedy of it is that when we do hear our conscience speak in sleep, we cannot act and that when able to act we forget what we know in our dream”.
Trying to make sense of our dreams when we are able to remember them is a challenge. You could interpret your dream to be one thing, and when you tell someone else, they could interpret it differently.
While we sleep the unconscious self takes a journey exploring thoughts in our minds. I believe that dreams are important, most of the time they represent something. Or try to tell you something. Through dreams the unconscious self is able to reveal hidden desires, wants/wishes, fears. Sometimes a dream can also show a memory that we experienced while we were awake. Our dreams are able to create an alter reality where we are able to runaway from life’s problems. Since we repress these feelings while we are awake, while we are in the dreaming state our conscience spills the repressed thoughts and feelings into our unconscious mind. Many people don’t remember their dreams, and when they are able to remember, often overlook it. “Sleep is often the only occasion which man cannot silence his conscience, but the tragedy of it is that when we do hear our conscience speak in sleep, we cannot act and that when able to act we forget what we know in our dream”.
Trying to make sense of our dreams when we are able to remember them is a challenge. You could interpret your dream to be one thing, and when you tell someone else, they could interpret it differently.
childhood
Childhood Portfolio
My name is Reema Uddin, I am seventeen years old and I have lived in New York all my life. I live with my mom, three brothers and my sister. My father passed away when I was thirteen and his death has impacted me I many ways.
Since I am the baby of the family, you can imagine that both my parents and my siblings spoiled me. I am also the only one in my immediate family to be born in America.
My mom once told that when I was a baby my oldest brother asked for her permission to buy a video camera so they could record all my childhood memories so that when I grow up, I can have something to look back at. My other siblings didn’t have the privilege of recording their childhood memories.
My oldest uncle (my mother’s oldest brother) was the one who brought my parents, siblings, aunts, uncles and other distant relatives to America. Although I rarely get to see my uncle now, maybe once or twice a year, thanks to him we are all able to live a good life here and hopefully make something of our lives. Even though we rarely see him, I know that he is proud of the people we have become.
Oddly enough, I remember the day this picture was taken, it pretty clear in my memory. I think it was in 1996, it snowed a lot the night before, maybe up to my waist at that time, we had woke early and I didn’t have to go to mosque that day so 2 of my brothers, my sister and I wore our winter clothes and went to play in the snow. At that time we lived in a building in Parkchester, we went to the back of the building where the playground was. We also went to the metropolitan oval. During the warm weather, the pond was filled with water, but during the winter they covered up the statues with little houses and chimney (they still do that). I remember the snow perfectly lay on the ground, untouched. It was so clean and beautiful.
Childhood Stories
Since I was the youngest, my family had a party for my birthday. It usually included my aunts and uncles (from my mom’s side of the family. All my dad’s siblings and blood relatives live in Bangladesh). The last big party I had was when I was eight years old. My parents, and siblings organized the whole thing. My youngest brother ‘s friends helped with the decorations and everything. From the pictures I can tell it was always a huge celebration, but my eighth birthday is the one I can remember. I even remember who gave me what. I also still have these two balloons that my youngest brother’s friend got a huge Mickey Mouse and a Cinderella castle. Like most celebrations and get-togethers, my birthday was an excuse for my entire family to get together and have a good time. But of course as time goes on things change.
As time goes on, things change and so do people. While I was growing up, and even to this day people always come and go in my life. For some reason, my friends would always leave, disappear, or just stop talking to me. Sometimes they have a reason, like moving away, or issues between our families. Those ‘break-ups’ I can understand, but when a friend just stops being my friend, I can’t help but wonder why it happened. Maybe it was something I said or did, or a million other possibilities, but I guess I will never know and that is what bugs me. I can’t help it, I don’t want it to bother me but it does and it hurts but what can you do. I had this one friend. We were always in the same class from pre-school to the beginning of fifth grade, until I moved away. I was ten and didn’t get to say goodbye to her, I didn’t even know that I was moving. Her name was Roma. Everyone always teased us, singing “Reema, Roma, Roma, Reema”. To be honest that is the same way I lost all my childhood friends, when I moved, I never got a chance to say bye to them, or maybe if I was older I would not have lost touch. Maybe that’s the reason why I can’t keep friends now, karma, since I left all my other friends.
“Ignorance is bliss”, I think that in certain situations this is true. When I was younger I can’t really remember any family problems or issues, but now that I am older, no one really hides them from me. I guess because I’m old enough to know and understand. As a child I always wanted to know what was going on, but now that I do, I rather not know. Little kids always want to know what the grown ups are taking about, and at times I was like that. But I didn’t really care; I was to busy being involved in my own world. My mom says that I am still like that, which in my opinion is a good thing. I don’t like to get caught up in drama, but I do like helping people and listening to people. I guess as long its not happening directly to me, I would be willing to help, not get involved, but help a friend out.
My name is Reema Uddin, I am seventeen years old and I have lived in New York all my life. I live with my mom, three brothers and my sister. My father passed away when I was thirteen and his death has impacted me I many ways.
Since I am the baby of the family, you can imagine that both my parents and my siblings spoiled me. I am also the only one in my immediate family to be born in America.
My mom once told that when I was a baby my oldest brother asked for her permission to buy a video camera so they could record all my childhood memories so that when I grow up, I can have something to look back at. My other siblings didn’t have the privilege of recording their childhood memories.
My oldest uncle (my mother’s oldest brother) was the one who brought my parents, siblings, aunts, uncles and other distant relatives to America. Although I rarely get to see my uncle now, maybe once or twice a year, thanks to him we are all able to live a good life here and hopefully make something of our lives. Even though we rarely see him, I know that he is proud of the people we have become.
Oddly enough, I remember the day this picture was taken, it pretty clear in my memory. I think it was in 1996, it snowed a lot the night before, maybe up to my waist at that time, we had woke early and I didn’t have to go to mosque that day so 2 of my brothers, my sister and I wore our winter clothes and went to play in the snow. At that time we lived in a building in Parkchester, we went to the back of the building where the playground was. We also went to the metropolitan oval. During the warm weather, the pond was filled with water, but during the winter they covered up the statues with little houses and chimney (they still do that). I remember the snow perfectly lay on the ground, untouched. It was so clean and beautiful.
Childhood Stories
Since I was the youngest, my family had a party for my birthday. It usually included my aunts and uncles (from my mom’s side of the family. All my dad’s siblings and blood relatives live in Bangladesh). The last big party I had was when I was eight years old. My parents, and siblings organized the whole thing. My youngest brother ‘s friends helped with the decorations and everything. From the pictures I can tell it was always a huge celebration, but my eighth birthday is the one I can remember. I even remember who gave me what. I also still have these two balloons that my youngest brother’s friend got a huge Mickey Mouse and a Cinderella castle. Like most celebrations and get-togethers, my birthday was an excuse for my entire family to get together and have a good time. But of course as time goes on things change.
As time goes on, things change and so do people. While I was growing up, and even to this day people always come and go in my life. For some reason, my friends would always leave, disappear, or just stop talking to me. Sometimes they have a reason, like moving away, or issues between our families. Those ‘break-ups’ I can understand, but when a friend just stops being my friend, I can’t help but wonder why it happened. Maybe it was something I said or did, or a million other possibilities, but I guess I will never know and that is what bugs me. I can’t help it, I don’t want it to bother me but it does and it hurts but what can you do. I had this one friend. We were always in the same class from pre-school to the beginning of fifth grade, until I moved away. I was ten and didn’t get to say goodbye to her, I didn’t even know that I was moving. Her name was Roma. Everyone always teased us, singing “Reema, Roma, Roma, Reema”. To be honest that is the same way I lost all my childhood friends, when I moved, I never got a chance to say bye to them, or maybe if I was older I would not have lost touch. Maybe that’s the reason why I can’t keep friends now, karma, since I left all my other friends.
“Ignorance is bliss”, I think that in certain situations this is true. When I was younger I can’t really remember any family problems or issues, but now that I am older, no one really hides them from me. I guess because I’m old enough to know and understand. As a child I always wanted to know what was going on, but now that I do, I rather not know. Little kids always want to know what the grown ups are taking about, and at times I was like that. But I didn’t really care; I was to busy being involved in my own world. My mom says that I am still like that, which in my opinion is a good thing. I don’t like to get caught up in drama, but I do like helping people and listening to people. I guess as long its not happening directly to me, I would be willing to help, not get involved, but help a friend out.
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