I'm from an Indian family of professionals, and my parents had to go through hardships themselves to send me to IIT-Mumbai.

My parents were an ordinary East End family and very supportive - they would have supported me no matter what I wanted to do.

I live in Las Vegas with my family, and I never realized what my parents would go through to get me to a five-minute audition.

Losing my parents really set me adrift in more ways than one. It's not just losing them. It's losing the possibility of family.

Since I'm the youngest in the family, I sulk when my parents deny me something, although I come around when they explain why it was denied.

I got into a lot of trouble. Maybe that's why my parents didn't really like me and I didn't blend in with my family. I was always the naughty one.

I'm a Southerner. We dream of having the family and the kids, and the parents want grandkids, that's all they care about, give me some grandbabies.

Because we had no other relatives living in the U.K., me, my parents and my siblings continuously journeyed abroad to bond with our extended family.

For me, the toughest thing for kids to deal with is when the parents are fighting. It's not violence on them - it's the feeling of violence in the family.

I'm very nurturing. I come from a large family, and my parents were loving. But the most important thing for me as a mum is to keep my word. When I say no, I mean no.

My parents elected me president of the family when I was 4. We actually had an election every year, and I always won. I'm an only child, and I could count on my mother's vote.

I have always gravitated toward levity and my parents; I'm sure they have a VHS tape of me when I'm making jokes and trying to make faces when the family was taking a picture.

My parents called me the WB frog. Because when I was onstage, I would do this whole song and dance, but if my parents had a family friend over, I would just go hide in the bedroom.

I have parents and family who will never allow me not to be grounded. If I thought for a second that I could possibly lift off the ground, I have a thousand people who will grab my ankles.

I like a girl that takes pride in her appearance - looks are important to me, but it's also important she gets on with my friends and family. If my parents don't like a girl, then she's instantly a no-go.

When I was going away to school, I had a friend who took a liking to my family just a little too much. We couldn't get her out of the house. It took me saying to my parents, 'I don't want her here. I'm feeling replaced.'

My neighborhood was normal. I had a neighborhood where everyone knew everyone. Typical American upbringing. Sometimes we got into trouble, but everyone watched after each other, so if my parents didn't see me making trouble, another family would tell them.

My family took a vacation to Universal Studios when I was really young. Me and my brother Richard - who's also an actor - were both really intrigued by seeing the behind-the-scenes stuff of how films are made. We kind of begged our parents to get into acting.

Upon receiving my notification of acceptance to the university, my parents noticed that they were obliged to submit to the university, among other things, a copy of my official family register. After much mental anguish, they decided to inform me of the secret of my birth.

We were like a white family from the 1920s or something. My parents had this bizarre, different way of looking at things from the people that surrounded us. I went to an all-Mexican grade school and an all-black high school, and not many people in those places liked the same stuff as me.

My parents were not at all backstage parents. We had none of that in the family. It was just very clear right away that I was an actor, even from 4 years old. I've never waited a table. I taught some - I'll teach classes in improv or Shakespeare, but there's some motor in me that needs to do that.

I was born in Budapest, Hungary, and moved to the United States in 1956. It was during the Hungarian Revolution when Russian tanks rolled into Budapest, and my family - me, my brother, and my parents - escaped over the border to Austria. We just took whatever we could carry. It was perilous, but we made it across.

Growing up, there wasn't an exact Hispanic role model that I had. I didn't realize how big a difference I was making, going to the Olympics and being Hispanic, until I would be in an autograph session, and parents would come up to me and say, 'You know, our family is so proud of you, you're really doing Hispanics proud.'

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