My Dad

For me, my father has always been an important figure in my life.  Coming from a rich family that lost it all to Communism before he was even born, he ended up living a more ironic lifestyle.  For one, living in the Soviet Union gave him the opportunity to not do much.  He worked as an engineer and eventually, he was drafted as a sniper in the Soviet army.  Before I was born, my dad moved here, where the winters weren't as harsh and the summers were harsher.  I was born after my dad lived 12 years in the US, and he still had a very rough understanding of how things worked here.  Eventually I had to go to school and most of the time, my Russian proverbs would come out poorly translated and kids would either make fun of me, or I would end up making fun of the looks they gave me with more Russian proverbs.  All in all, it wasn't the best experience in elementary and middle school.  But around middle school, my dad, who was working in Manhattan Beach, decided to prepare me for where I was about to go... Mira Costa, for my freshman year.  (I was living near Woodland Hills up until halfway through my freshman year). My dad decided to take me and help me get familiarized with american sayings and social etiquette so that I would be able to make more friends in high school, while at the same time, not changing who I was as a person.  We would go watch movies and write down quotes, or even go to my dad's work and listen to his co-workers.  This helped me realize that if I were to be successful in life, I would have to go everywhere for information and work hard at it.