*Favorite Book- "Cradle And All" By James Patterson *Favorite Musicians- Michael Jackson, Nelly, and LL Cool J
*Favorite TV Show- Fresh Prince *Stuff I Like- Photography, Dance, Video Games, Movies, Music, and Money
*Favorite Movie- Baby Boy/Vanilla Sky *Stuff I Hate- Conceited People, Meanness, Alarm Clocks, and Being Broke
*Fav Music- Rock, Hip-Hop, Oldies , Pop, and Techno *Favorite Type of Food- Italian Snack: French Toast, Cereal or Chow Mien
*Fav Song- "Rock With You" by Michael Jackson/LL Cool J "Hush"
My name is Jason Duaine Hahn. I was born September 4, 1987. I'm 17 years old, I'm a Virgo, and a Christian. I live in Torrance, California. I'm a Senior at Torrance High. Some clubs that I was in during the four years there are: KIWIN'S, S.A.V.E, Break Dance Club, Hip Hop Club, Hip Hop Dance Team, and Step Team. I play the electric guitar, I don't exactly know how, but I mess around, I have a Red Fender Squier. Also, I have played the viola, back in middle school. I'm trying to learn how to break dance. My favorite subject in school is Psychology, which I took junior year. But now I guess its Photography. When I grow up I'm going to try to be a fire fighter, psychologist, or chef. Actually, now I really have no clue. One saying that I believe in is:
For Everything That Happens, There Is A Reason. Though it might not be that easy to see, sometimes you have to find it. Maybe a lesson can be learned, or for someone else. Maybe a little thing that you thought nothing of, might lead you to something
BIG. You encounter everyone you meet for a reason. Things that are going wrong in your life now, may make you wiser, or stronger in the future, or may help out someone you know that is going through the same thing you went through. You never know what life has waiting for you. Cherish every moment you have. I don't know, those are just little random thoughts that I have. Anyway, now my Life story: I have a brother, his name is James, and he is 31, and I have a sister named Ivory who is 14 years old, and lives with my grandmother. Myself, I live with my ma here in Torrance. My ma is German, and my Dad is Mexican, so that means I'm mixed. That's right, German, Mexican, and a lil Italian mixed in there. I lived with my Grandma, and my sister Ivory until I was 9 years old, and it was pretty good. I have to admit, I was a happy kid. Then came the day my father got custody over me. He managed that pretty easily because my mother didn't show up to court, so he automatically won. There were a lot of differences and changes switching families and cultures.
Now on to the
dark years of my life...
I didn't know any Spanish. My dad barely knew how to speak English. Great pair huh? Well I moved in with him in Hawthorne, and that's where I went to Mark Twain Elementary and Will Rogers Middle School. My dad was a fukk up and he couldn't raise me by himself. Not about a lack of trying, he just didn't care. He said that family had to stick together. I believe that too, but I don't believe that they should be totally dependant on one another. Which he was. All of my uncles, aunts, cousins, and some other people, all lived in the same house. When he said that family has to stick together, that was just an excuse because he couldn't afford his own place, cause he wasted too much money on beer. I had 4 uncles, 6 aunts, 7 cousins, my dad, my grandfather, and myself living all in the same house. What the fukk mayn?! 20 people! Pshh.. Over a couple months, the abuse started. I would get slapped and kicked for reasons that didn't make
any sense. Most of the time I wouldn't cry because of the pain, I would cry because of the fact that he hit me, further pushing me to think I was NOTHING. The beatings would be a couple times a week, but the fear of it was everyday. I wouldn't tell my ma and bro about it because my dad would always tell me he loved me, and I didn't want anything bad to happen to him. He also abused my ma, and she had a couple teeth knocked out. Oh, and don't thynk he would hold back on the abuse, even if I was still in her womb. Freakin Dad of the year.. Let me get this straight, the court let the man who abused his wife, even when his child was in her stomach, raise the kid?!? Did the idea of me getting hit fly over there minds? Anyway, I slept on the couch and my room was the closet. Of course I was the outsider over there. But, I was the only one with style.. ;) After living with my dad for a year and a half, he got married to a woman with 2 daughters and 1 son. My dad and I moved in there apartment, and I had a new step brother, George, and 2 step sisters, Brenda and Sadie. For 3 years, it was a marriage of arguments and breaking up and getting back together. My dad smoked and drank, he used to never come home for about a week and not tell me where he has been. My new step mom, Elena, was really nice and she took care of me. I had visitation on every other Saturday to my grandmas house and had fun seeing my family. My life was going alright but my punk dad kept ruining it. I was in BLISS when he didn't come home! Then Elena and my dad divorced. Sadly, Elena & everyone moved to Las Vegas, leaving me with my dad. It was a sad day when they left, because I wouldn't see them for a long time and I would have to live with my ass of a father and
his family again.
Now I would have to deal with my aunts bugging me about all my flaws, deal with my cousins stealing my stuff, breaking it, and then getting away without punishment. Also, once again, living in fear of my dad. Being afraid, wondering if he would come home drunk, or maybe I would get lucky and he would be sober, or maybe not come home at all. I had to try to act my best around him, I had to be careful not to screw up, say please and thank you, elbows off the table, and most of all, obey him. If I didn't, then well, bloody nose for me. Finally one day I guess my dad had enough of spending money on me, and said I could stay at my grandmothers for awhile. I was SO happy. I was there for a couple weeks, then something bad happened. Some thing bad that would make my lyfe better again. One sunny afternoon while I was starting my hour and a half walk back home from school 8th grade year, my dad rolled by in his car. He saw me and my friends, but he was driving the opposite direction. My friends new what kind of guy he was, and after we saw him turn around in our direction, we RAN. We ran for our lives, well at least I did. Of course he caught up, and he got out of his car, and came up to me. In those moments I don't know exactly what was going through my mind, but with all my friends watching and some other kids, my dad grabbed me and slapped me. Luckily he had a hold of my backpack, and I let that fukker off me and I ran. I just remember running, I had absolutely nuffin flowing through my mind. I didn't WANT nuffin flowing through my mind. I wanted to deny everything that juss happened. I didn't want to feel the embarrassment, or the pain. I ran to an old folks home, and I asked if I could use the phone, and I called my bro. The following weeks after the incident I stayed at my Grandmothers, with no contact with my father. While I was there, it didn't go too well. Nope. I got hit a couple times, and there was ferocious yelling between me and my Grandmother. Over STUPID shyt. A lot of things went through my mind during those times. This was supposed to be my last hope, my "paradise" that I had looked forward to living in for 5 years! Why was it so upside down? Suicide was an option in my eyes, but I cared about the rest of my family enough not to do that. Over the months, my mom managed to get custody of me. Well, my father didn't even bother showing up to court, so it was kinda easy. Deja vu`? Haha. Anywayz, I moved in with her while I was 14, in Oct 2001. Its been about a year and a half since. Its been cool, far from perfect, but I'm thankful I'm away from my Dad, and what my family has done for me. I have a lot of cool friends at Torrance High, and around the neighborhood, and I'm grateful for that. I'll just wait and see what the future has in store for me. Oh, and don't keep pain bottled up inside, talk about it with someone. Also, it's not healthy ; ) If you actually read this, I THANK YOU so much from the bottom of my heart. Thanks for taking the time to read about my confusing, depressing, emotionally degrading, but none the less, happy life.
* On March 4, 2003, for the first time in almost 3 years, I paid a little visit to my Dad. I made the choice to do so. When I went to his house, I said hi to everyone, except for my dad. He didn't even look at me. He just sat in his car, minding his own business. Putting him past me, I looked around the house for awhile, seeing what changed, talking with family, when he finally came out of his car. I was in the living room when he came in. We looked at each other for a couple seconds, and I asked how he was. I gave him a hug, and despite all the harsh feelings I had for him, I cried while he was holding me. That was the last thing I thought was going to happen! So I ate dinner with them, and we did our lil catching-up. Even though I spent a couple hours there, the little "reunion" in the living room with my father was the only time me and him really bonded. I haven't really spoken with him since. Oh well. His loss.
