Children migrant workers

Child labor abuse

Now as an adult I sit here reflecting on my socialization growing up. My sisters and I very rarely went to school. In our household we were forced to work outside in the fields. I remember we would work outdoors in the hot sun for a minimum of 10 hours per day, up to 6 days per week. We would pick apples, oranges, bananas, strawberries, blueberries, asparagus, cucumbers, peaches, black and yellow cherries, tomatoes, corn, weeding the fields with long hoes.

Migrant workers

I just wanted to be a kid. I didn’t want to work under the hot sun for hours on end. I just wanted to play like other kids. Why couldn’t my biological mom understand that and want that for us?

After countless years of working in the fields; when I should have been in school. The state finally caught up to us and my biological mom was forced to register us in school. I remember walking into school… on the first day. I was terrified. I trusted no one and I was absolutely scared of people. I cried because all I wanted was my sisters. They were a few years older than me so they were placed in different classrooms. My sisters have always been comforting to me. I think I remember one of my sister’s hearing me cry in the classroom next door. Her teacher allowed her to come over to try and comfort me. She hugged me!

Neglected children

As I’m writing this, tears are coming down my face. I literally can physical feel what it felt like and how scared I was at that moment. These feelings have been bottled up inside for way to long. As emotional as this is, I know these feelings have to come out. I no longer want these feelings! I release these feelings that no longer belong to me.

Happiness from within

 

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