A Quote by Alek Wek

From nine years old, I lived with fear. I saw our neighbours disappearing. I was scared that I would come home from school and my parents would not be there. — © Alek Wek
From nine years old, I lived with fear. I saw our neighbours disappearing. I was scared that I would come home from school and my parents would not be there.
I was scared every time I put on a uniform and stepped on the field. I’m scared every day I go into the studio and I come on stage because I fear that I will not live up to what is expected. I fear that somebody who spent a lot of money to come into our studio, to come to New York and they’ll walk away and go, ‘I could have stayed at home.’ I feared that as a player a fan would come to the stands and I wouldn’t perform well. Just the way I’m built. I’m more scared of failure than I am excited about the accolades that come with success.
My parents live there, and I was born and raised in Scotland. I lived there for the first 11 years of my life, until my parents decided to take our family to France where we lived for a couple of years. We then moved back to Scotland, and that is where I feel most home - where I come back to myself, and I love more than I can say.
I grew up in the once segregated South. I experienced forced integration during my formative school years. I lived the sacrifices, burdens, and tears. I also lived the moments of understanding, of acknowledgment, of fellowship and success. I saw my parents and grandparents coming home beaten down - and some of my friends beaten up.
I spent grade nine and ten going to school in Victoria. My parents lived there for 10 years.
I started cooking around 9 years old. I would make crepes at home for my parents. By 15 years old, I had started my apprenticeship at a bakery.
When I used to live in Chicago - went to school there for four years and lived there for two years after - the whole time, I worked at this restaurant called DMK, and people would come in, and I would wait on their tables, and they would say, 'Oh my gosh, man. You look like the dude from 'Parks and Rec.' You look like Jean-Ralphio.'
Our kids fear going to school in the morning, and their parents worry whether they will come home safely at the end of the day.
I started caddying when I was nine years old at a very exclusive country club in Dayton, Ohio. And I saw how the other half lived, if you will.
When I was 12 years old, I was just horrible. My parents were ashamed to watch my matches. I would play on a court at the local club and they would watch from the balcony. They would scream, 'Be quiet' to me and I would scream back, 'Go and have a drink. Leave me alone.' Then we would drive home in a very quiet car. No one speaking to each other.
My parents liked to go dancing, and they encouraged all of us to bring our friends home. My brother had a skiffle group, and there would often be dancing in the house. And my parents would come and dance with us.
The first play that I saw was 'Cyrano,' and I remember going home - I was like nine years old - and trying to learn the monologues.
Every day after school, for three hours a day, I would sell those pralines on the street corner. I was just eight years old. I'd bring the money home to my parents and say, "This is just the beginning."
I constantly write about my safety walking to and from school, and then I would come home at night, and I would cut on the TV, and I would watch a show like 'The Wonder Years,' or I would watch, you know, some other show like 'Family Ties.'
We grew up in a praying home [with Alex Kendrick], we saw incredible answers to prayer in our parents' lives, they grew up in praying homes, our father launched a Christian school with nothing, basically he had some people that believed in the project but they had very little resources, and we watched our parents deal with those issues first in prayer, and then when they went out knocking on doors they saw amazing doors answered and resources come in.
If you went to a home, kicked down the front door, chased the people who lived there out into the street and said, Go! You are free! Free as a bird! Go! Go! - do you think they would shout and dance for joy? They wouldn't. Birds are not free. The people you've just evicted would sputter, With what right do you throw us out? This is our home. We own it. We have lived here for years. We're calling the police, you scoundrel.
My parents moved to American Samoa when I was three or four years old. My dad was principal of a high school there. It was idyllic for a kid. I had a whole island for a backyard. I lived there until I was eight years old and we moved to Santa Barbara.
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