Jalen Castillo

Mrs. Stacy Stuewe

English Composition 1
10 October 2016
Growing up, I favored my dad (not that I wasnt close to my mom) than my siblings did. I
always wanted to spend time with him. He was the parent I would always listen to which made it
easier for him to control/discipline me. One could say I was the male version of a Daddys girl.
But unfortunately, things didnt go quite well. Conflict that wasnt blamed on me got in the way
of me being able to have a joyful life with my life. My past in the category of behavior is directly
in relation to how involved my dad was in my life. When times werent good I expressed my
feelings into anger. To this day, Im still uncertain how my dads abandonment affected my
behavior in such a negative way.
During the end of my kindergarten years, my behavior transitioned from a constant
hooligan to a lack of self control which resulted in anger management issues. I was disruptive
to the class and had to be transferred to an alternative school. In fact, I remember on one
particular day that the intercom came on requesting me to go to the principals office. I knew it
was something bad. One thought came to mind about if my mom was going to spank me again in
front of the whole classroom. When I stepped in the principals office, my mom was not there. A
great sign of relief came upon me. But it was short lived after being informed that I had to be
transferred to an alternative school. I had to be transferred was not because of primarily to bad
behavior. It was because at the time, Larson didnt have a program for kids with emotional and
behavioral disabilities. The idea itself didnt seem too bad. But the awkwardness that my brother
and I were going to be in separate schools bugged me. It just seemed weird to me that it worried
me. Saddened, but surprisingly compliant (in other words I didnt throw a fit), I accepted the
truth.
First grade came along. The school was called Remynse Elementary. The outside looked
just liked my former school. Part of me thought perhaps the atmosphere of Larson was in this
school. It wasnt. The moment I stepped in, everything looked so different. I acted more shy after
losing all means of familiarity with Remynse. But this was just the tip of the iceberg. Once I
stepped in my classroom, there were about 6 students. I asked the staff, Why is this class so
small? The staff answered by telling me what this class was and why I am in it. Adapting to
such a small class didnt come easy. I felt more lonely without the livelihood of a full class. I also
felt like an outcast being kept away from all the fun. But anyways, this class was supposed to
help me better control my anger management issues. It didnt help whatsoever. The reason was
not the teacher. In fact I liked talking to the teacher. I didnt improve on my anger management
because my dad was consistently coming in and out of my life. In other words, the issue from
when I was 5 stayed the same. So the teacher had to call my mom and inform the principal of
Remynse about me. They decided to put me in another school with the same program that deal
with people like me since the program at Remynse wasnt working.

It is now second grade and I am in Pope Elementary. Once again I have to adapt to
transitioning school after school but I forced myself to deal with it. The program in this school
didnt help me whatsoever either. The teachers just didnt know how to help me. Then in late fall,
my mom attended an ARD meeting from my Larson (since my brother was still in Larson). A
staff member referenced her to Larsons new program that is just like the program I was
currently in. Thrilled of the offer, my mom took advantage of the offer. She called Pope to tell
them that my original school has opened up the program. My mom wanted to put me in there
ASAP. After winter break passed, I was transferred back to my original school. Now things are
going to get good.

Its now the beginning of the second half of second grade and I am back in Larson
Elementary. It felt reliving to come back to my original school. It was surely a partial relief to
know my brother and I are in the same school again. But I wasnt in normal classes. I was still in
the program. In fact, a name finally came for this program. The official name was PASS. It
stands for Positive Approach to Student Success. To go more in depth class-wise, PASS is an
isolated class containing about 1/3 the amount students that a normal class would have. If ones
behavior reaches a satisfactory level, he/she can spend part of their curriculum in normal classes.
In other words, you can be in a normal class for one or two subjects. Any student in PASS can
participate in the mandatory P.E., music, and art class. Like I mentioned above, my brother and I
are in the same school again. I also said that it was a partial relief. The reason to it being a partial
relief is because many kids favored my brother more than me. It was just a title I put in myself.
Jordan, the superior Jalen or Jalen, the inferior Jordan. Although I used to be in a different
school, at least I didnt have to worry about facing that type of judgment since kids never meant
my brother. But anyways Im getting sidetracked.
Its the first day of school and I step in PASS. There were 6 students; half of which were
newcomers and all of which were males. There were also three teachers. Their names were Mr.
Williams, Mr. Baggett, and Ms. Davis. All of us students were sitting in individual desks
surrounded by walls, something to separate each of us. Already I felt a different atmosphere in
PASS. It was a reliving feeling like I can be less reserved with these peoples. Immediately I came
out of my shell. It wasnt even a week yet and the teachers already liked me. They loved hearing
me talk. They also loved to play board games with me. I got along well with the students in
PASS. Relationships were all hunky-dory one might say. Despite the previous programs that I
was in, PASS actually managed to aid me in my issue of self-control. My behavior improved
drastically. There were still episodes then and there but it was far less. Not to mention that my
dad became more involved in my life. I guess one could say that two stones teamed up together
to kill that bird. Anyways, the end of second grade draws nearer and everything seems to be
going good.
We now begin the chapter of my life in the third grade. Third grade was just as good, if
not better than second grade. My behavior remained good as ever. In fact, several weeks after
third grade began, my PASS teachers decided to talk to the principal in order to put in some
normal classes. The principal wanted some time to see for himself how I acted before approving.

I remembered seeing the principal come in the classroom frequently but didnt know why. He
always kept watching me like a silent spy. And one day when he steps in, he asks me to follow
him to his office. I worried saying in my head, What did I do this time? I sit in the principals
office still scared stiff (although the chair I was sitting in was quite comfortable). He asks me
with a plain attitude, Jalen, why do you think youre here? I reply back saying, I dont know.
Did I do something wrong? His plain attitude changes to a reliving grin as he says, Far from it.
Youre not here for something bad; its something good. Then he goes to explain why hes been
visiting PASS recently. Its also mentioned that my mom was informed of the details before this
appointment. And the principal says this to me, How would you like to be in a normal class?
He tone was like that of an investor giving an offer to an entrepreneur I say with absolute shock,
What! You mean with the normal kids? I didnt know. My tone made it off to be like I was
afraid/ very hesitant. The principal proceeded to dwindle my hesitation saying that I am ready
and am qualified. Still I didnt feel ready but made arrangements to put me in some normal
classes regardless.
Its the Monday after the appointment with the principal and I am beyond scared to go to
a normal class. Its been almost 3 years since Ive been in one. I go to my PASS class in the
morning to pick up a paper that requires outside teachers to sign regarding if my behavior was
either good or bad. We do the morning routine (say the pledge of allegiance followed by
announcements). Once the announcements are over, its finally time for me to go out there in a
normal class for the first time in a while. My PASS teachers try to encourage me the best they
could. It still didnt help. I leave the class, walk to my class, and am welcomed by teacher of the
normal class Im in. The subject was reading. It wasnt anywhere near as dreadful as I had
thought it would be. Everybody is friendly to me. Despite that, I started off acting very silent
with them. My behavior was still good but my communication towards other students is like a
one talks to his/her family than his/her friends. My voice sounded very reserve. I preferred
PASS better strictly because I connect with them much easier. Now that doesnt mean that I
never connected with normal students in the normal class. It took about 2 months for me to be
myself. Then the normal students really liked me which boosted my self-esteem. One reason was
that I could trace quite good (somehow that was something to be admired). Life for the third
grade stays like this for the whole year. Theres not much of anything else left to include for the
third grade. Everything was in fact hunky-doryhowever, things went very downhill after a
certain incident occurred right before summer ended to begin the fourth grade. This involves my
dad.
The one event that really changed my life happens the week before fourth grade begins.
The problem concludes at the last summer week yet the problem begins a few weeks before that.
Its summer break in the month of August. My brother and I spend it with my dad. On the first
Saturday of August, my dad picks up both me and my brother from my grandmas house. We go
to his apartment waiting for my half-brother and a friend of his to come. Then I hear door
knockings. My dad says, Ill answer it. He opens the door to what it turned out to be a female
whos age looked similar to his. My dad introduces us to her. I said internally, Uhh okay. On
the outside, I just shook the womans hand in a friendly matter. As a little 10 year old who hates
the word divorce would not be easily okay with something like this without consent. I was

indeed that type of guy. I didnt feel comfortable seeing my dad date another woman. But that
changed after she acted nice to me and my brother. I changed my mind about this woman
quickly. I approved to say this least. Then about a week after, I started noticing something
unusual from my dad. Every time he brought me and my brother over and when his girlfriend
was also there, I saw that he would give her noticeably more attention than us. His girlfriend
would also begin to neglect me. Like any child, this bothered me a lot. It was like seeing
Daddys girl getting all the attention but stronger than that. When my dad and his girlfriend
couldnt hear me, I asked my brother if he felt the same way I did in which he confirmed that he
did as well. And just to make sure I wasnt being paranoid, I shared to my mom about the issue
after she comes to pick me up (my brother did too). She didnt even have to witness it herself in
order to believe me. Somehow my mom just knew what Im saying is accurate. Before leaving
my dads neighborhood, she walks inside my dads apartment to share with him what Im
feeling. She told me that if it continues to tell her every time. I hoped whatever my mom said to
my dad would better improve the situation. But it didnt help at all. The problem continued week
after week without the slightest bit of improvement. Then on the Thursday before school started,
my mom has just about had it with this continuous neglect of attention towards the children. She
walks in again to my dads apartment to address the seriousness of what hes doing. Both my
brother and I are in the car waiting. I notice how this talk is talking much longer than usual that it
makes me curious enough to want to get out of the car. But before I step out of the car, I see the
door to my dads apartment open. My dad is the first one to step out. My mother comes out next
to follows him like a Were not done talking yet! scenario. My dad comes to where my brother
and I are sitting. He says to the both us, Guys. Im sorry but I cant take live here around your
mom anymore. Im moving someplace. Have a nice life! (The last sentence was his farewell
ending line while the rest are similar to what he actually said before) My brother and I cry for at
least an hour. But I cry even harder. One could tell just by looking. Anyways, my dad walked
back inside his apartment and my mom, with us in her car, left the neighborhood. To reasons I
dont remember, the next day, we went back to see if my dad was still left and he wasnt. At this
moment I truly accepted the fact that hes gone for good. I had to somehow deal with this pain at
the same time school began. I recall mentioning that my angered behavior started because of the
lack of my dad consistently being a full time father. Although lacking to be a full time father, at
least part of him was in my life. Now that he is completely out of my life is.Im pretty sure
you can add up the math. The math is unleashed in the fourth grade.
Summer has now ended. Fourth grade begins. I am still in PASS yet my teachers are
unaware of what a depressing reality I am dealing with. Before the first week, my feelings
towards my fathers complete abandonment are already unleashed into violent behavior. Yes I
have been reversed to the boy I was back in kindergarten. My behavior turns out to be so bad that
all my privileges of learning in a normal class are now taken away. Even the depths on how I
acted were worse. There was even this time where threw a carrot at one of my third grade normal
teacher. The rest of fourth grade remained business as usual. Fifth grade is where the growth of
change began. From fifth grade to the rest of my elementary years, the curtain to my anger
management reached its close. Because I am unable to describe specifically what actually clicked

a change in my life, this is where I will have to draw to my conclusion about who I am today and
what my relationship is with my father.
At age of 19, I am still a well-behaved person. My emotions are well controlled. For 8
years, I have had to adapt to life without a father figure. It took some time to be okay with that
reality. First it was divorce then it was going through 8 years with no dad. At the time, those two
were the hardest realities I had to experience that I didnt want to accept. As I grew older, my
mom shared things about her past with my dad that helped me better understand why things
happened the way it did. In fact, the reason why my dad left me at the age of 10 was primarily
due to his girlfriend. She feared my mom and dad would one day get back together so she
intentionally took my dad away from me for 8 years. In early February of this year, my mom told
me just about the greatest news a child could hear. And its ironic in a way thatll be described
later. She told me my dad is filing for a divorce with the woman who stole my dad. Because of
this divorce, my mom decided to let me see my dad for the first time in 8 years. Right now, we
have a good relationship and I am happy to see it that way. The irony if this situation is despite
the fact that I hate the word divorce, divorce is what brought my father back. I wonder what life
wouldve been like if my dad never left. Did my dad need to be temporarily away from a life?
Was this Gods will? Is there a lesson to be learned? Would my mind of adolescence have been
changed for the worse if my dad stayed? Did my dad need to meet his fire in order to change?
What purpose, if any, does this serve?