Hello, my name is Rosa Parks and I am 60 years old and I will be telling you stories of my life. Well with every story there is a beginning and in this one it starts with my parents and how I grew up. I mainly grew up with my grandparents and my mother. My parents, Leona and James McCauley, My mother was a teacher and my father was a traveling carpenter. He and my mother had different ways, my mother wanted to stay in one place whiles my father wanted to continue traveling, I rarely ever saw him as I was growing up. After a while with being alone my father had us move in with his family, but after when my father left my mother herself didn’t feel a part of his family, so she took us to her parents’ house and we lived with them, after a little while my little brother Sylvester was born, I remember that he was quite a trouble maker in fact I got in most of the trouble for not telling on him.  Something I remember from back then is my grandfather having a raging hot hatred for white people grandma told us it was that after his parents died and after the freedom of slaves that an overseer took over the farm where he was living that the overseer beat him and tried to starve him and that a reason why he is alive is that the servants would feed him scraps and kept him alive.