I woke up feeling thirty this morning………
As you all know I neatly tucked my 30 and over club card inside my wallet on this past Sunday. Then came the sulking, not just because I am actually 30 years old – I sulked in honor of the years that have flashed right on by me without recognition. Thanks to the great genes of my ancestors I don’t look a day over 25. I am sure we have all thought back on our childhood and the aspirations that were once a driving force in our lives. Last night I did a little more than think back on my childhood, in a sense I explored it. I sat and thought back to my days at John Burroughs Elementary and how much I really hated damn near everyone in the school. Sure children are cruel and friendships aren’t actually solidified in those years but I really hated the fact that I had to go to this place Monday through Friday and spend time with children that I didn’t quite care for. Don’t get me wrong I did have a few friends, I just would have liked to attend school on my terms. As I am sure all of us did.
I thought about the days on the playground, little instances in the lunch line, the first time I joined the cheerleading squad. The little things, I laughed about the time that I was upset because I had to share my birthday cake with the class. I went home in a tizzy! The time that, well I’ll call him JB used eat my paste in Mrs. Golden’s class… I remembered my first best friend Camille, we lost touch, I wondered how she is doing and couldn’t for the life of me think of her last name. Some BFF I am huh? I remembered having sleepovers with my second BFF Jay as we call her now and how I used to practice doing curls on her hair. I thought about the assemblies and recess, family day and me not having a care in the world. I also remembered my days “down south” as they call it. My fifth and half of sixth grade years in Charleston and McClelanville. The snakes drove me crazy and my dad drove me back home. Right back to the same place like I never missed a beat. I really cracked up at my Jheri Curl years, I actually doubled over in tears.
Fast Forward to Junior High School – good old Taft Junior High School, there were good times like my first out of town field trip, the cheerleading squad, Umoja Dance Team and learning to play the flute. Then there were bad times like my first real fight, adjusting to multiple classes and my re-introduction to In School Suspension. This is where I really started to dream. I wanted to be an actress/choreographer/artist, live in a studio apartment in Brooklyn and be married with children by 35. Well one out of three ain’t bad. I remembered daydreaming about hosting my own talk show and chuckling to myself as I pictured various classmates as my guests. I would go over the questions in my head and envision them giving their answers. I’d do that with teachers and students just the same. My favorite was Ms. Mary. She taught us art. Everything she taught me I would go home and teach my neighbors and little cousins. Kind of like Nettie and Celie, without Mister. I would ask her about her schooling and when she developed her passion for art, stuff like that.
Langdon Park Pool and Recreational center then popped into my head. This is where I met the father of my children. Go-figure. This is where I developed a passion for writing. This is also where my dreams were slowly replaced with forced grown up decision making and real life issues. A dreamer without guidance is like a mobilized car without a driver. Just going along crashing into shit, destroying itself and everything in it’s path until it finally crashes and hopes for the best. I thought back on the many of days and nights that I spent down there. Everything from the teen clinic, the kick boxing club, cheerleading and swimming lessons went through my head. All of the things that one would have though to be a driving force did nothing more for me than occupy my time. Why because I never really appreciated it until now.
Oh the High School Years, whew I didn’t know where to start reminiscing. Hell I went to four different high schools. Those years are somewhat a blur, only because I pretty much went into practicing herbal remedies full time as opposed to channeling my energy into something much more. Again a child without guidance – At this age my dreams had pretty much dissipated. I graduated pregnant and I really didn’t have the nerve to dream anymore. While a small amount of my classmates filled out college applications I was completing Medicaid and WIC forms. Others were off to work while I prepped for labor and delivery. My father was disappointed in me, my sibling contact was few and far between and the father of my child was one french fry short of a happy meal, make that two french fries short. There I was the big dreamer. Literally.
Don’t confuse this as a pity blog, trust and believe I have learned from all of this. I just thought I’d share my thoughts from last night. Of course they were way more detailed, I didn’t want to write a book though. I guess what I want to say is pursue, I am thankful that I am here to ensure that my children pursue and I am also thankful that my life went the way it did so that I can actually break the chain instead of chipping away at it.
Whew that was a long one,
-- Mrs. B
Posts
