Kimber Simchayof
Writer '18
Many girls grow up idolizing their favorite singer, or their favorite TV actress. Boys hang up posters of their favorite basketball player in their room, and some trade baseball cards to receive the best player. Little girls grow up, dreaming to sing like Miley Cyrus and boys only hope to make the basketball team to be the school's next Kobe Bryant. Television and social media greatly impacted who people look up to but, not for me.
Growing up, I always idolized my father. He was my hero. I would go to my grandmother's house and I would see my father in his military wear, with a rifle in hand. He would always tell me stories of his experiences growing up in Israel, and what it was like fighting for his country.
He was also very strict with me. I was never allowed to have sleepovers, or ride a bike. If I wanted to go to a friends house for a playdate he needed to know their name, address, parents name and social security number.
It was also really surprising to me that my father had a life before me. Growing up, he was my dad. These stories and pictures just always seemed so surreal. Since I was a baby everything he had done had been for me and my siblings. He would tell us “I go to work so I can put food on the table for you,” or “I’m telling you this because I want the best for you.” To hear these stories of his exoctic life, fed my wild imagination.
I would dream of what it would be like to live in a castle, with 15 puppies. In the castle, my mother would wear medieval peasant outfit, as I would be dressed like modern rock princess. My sisters became my workers, ready to serve me at any given time. My father was my best friend. We would play sports together, and he would attend all my recitals, and beforehand he would help me practice my lifts. Overall, it was my imagination, and I loved my daddy.
As I grew older, my imagination faded, as did my connection to my father. I suddenly began to care more about my social life, and my school needs more than my relationship with my dad. I would stay in school late and miss family dinner. The next night I would beg my parents to let me go out with friends because I haven’t seen them in a while. And then the next night I would have a dance lesson. Every night I had an excuse to not be at home. Those nights that I wasn’t there, my family connected and I grew even further apart.
I had new idols. Julianne Hough or Witney Carson grew a very special place in my heart, but one day I came home and realized a change in my dad. He got a haircut. “Kiki, I got this haircut two weeks ago.” That's when I realized. I was so disconnected from my family, and from my father. I didn’t even notice his haircut. Yes, I had become a typical girl who idolized fame and glamour, but not realizing something so small in a person that had such a special place in my life really took a toll in me. My father will always be my idol. Overall, he is my daddy.
Writer '18
Many girls grow up idolizing their favorite singer, or their favorite TV actress. Boys hang up posters of their favorite basketball player in their room, and some trade baseball cards to receive the best player. Little girls grow up, dreaming to sing like Miley Cyrus and boys only hope to make the basketball team to be the school's next Kobe Bryant. Television and social media greatly impacted who people look up to but, not for me.
Growing up, I always idolized my father. He was my hero. I would go to my grandmother's house and I would see my father in his military wear, with a rifle in hand. He would always tell me stories of his experiences growing up in Israel, and what it was like fighting for his country.
He was also very strict with me. I was never allowed to have sleepovers, or ride a bike. If I wanted to go to a friends house for a playdate he needed to know their name, address, parents name and social security number.
It was also really surprising to me that my father had a life before me. Growing up, he was my dad. These stories and pictures just always seemed so surreal. Since I was a baby everything he had done had been for me and my siblings. He would tell us “I go to work so I can put food on the table for you,” or “I’m telling you this because I want the best for you.” To hear these stories of his exoctic life, fed my wild imagination.
I would dream of what it would be like to live in a castle, with 15 puppies. In the castle, my mother would wear medieval peasant outfit, as I would be dressed like modern rock princess. My sisters became my workers, ready to serve me at any given time. My father was my best friend. We would play sports together, and he would attend all my recitals, and beforehand he would help me practice my lifts. Overall, it was my imagination, and I loved my daddy.
As I grew older, my imagination faded, as did my connection to my father. I suddenly began to care more about my social life, and my school needs more than my relationship with my dad. I would stay in school late and miss family dinner. The next night I would beg my parents to let me go out with friends because I haven’t seen them in a while. And then the next night I would have a dance lesson. Every night I had an excuse to not be at home. Those nights that I wasn’t there, my family connected and I grew even further apart.
I had new idols. Julianne Hough or Witney Carson grew a very special place in my heart, but one day I came home and realized a change in my dad. He got a haircut. “Kiki, I got this haircut two weeks ago.” That's when I realized. I was so disconnected from my family, and from my father. I didn’t even notice his haircut. Yes, I had become a typical girl who idolized fame and glamour, but not realizing something so small in a person that had such a special place in my life really took a toll in me. My father will always be my idol. Overall, he is my daddy.