I don't think that those girls had very much self respect.
I remember that they used to steal. My mom always taught me that stealing was wrong but her words suddenly floated away as I played the game of how many things I could sneak by store personnel. The saddest time wasn't being caught by my mom and humiliated in front of the store owners when she made me and my 9 year old best friend return the items and made my best friend go home a week early on our spring break, it was when I stole myself a dolphin necklace from the Disney store at Downtown Disney on my birthday. I would have much rather been at Disneyland but I knew that my mom did the best she could within our budget. Stealing makeup from a thrift store isn't on my high list either. I didn't see color, class or creed back then, all I saw was a playmate. I was as happy with dirt and a hose on a hot day as I would have been on vacation or in a mansion.
It was a really hot day and we would pay to go to the community pool to cool off. Mom bought us swimming lessons there, we made friends and got comfortable with the diving board. We had made new friends recently, 3 girls, sisters and a boy-I don't think he was related to them. We all went to the community pool together. My little brother and I stood in a circle with them and talked about kid things. Thinking that they were talking about blow pens, the colorful marker like paints I'd heard of on tv, I nodded along. "What's a blow job?" I asked. I think we were 10. I didn't think that they were too different from me until they slept over at our house and one of them burned a hole in my mattress. We didn't see them many more times after that.
Crazy. Sometimes poverty makes people crazy. Sometimes lack of education makes people go mad. Every once in awhile, you get out. We got out. " I always knew you and your brother were different," that's what my neighbor told me when I went home on holiday after leaving for college.
I had to learn not to be ashamed, that some things are out of your control, are out of everyone's control. Some turned to God there and I could see how faith is what kept them going. Some were driven by drugs. I think I held my own, even as a kid, maybe I got away because people saw that. I got bullied. I was cursed out. Sometimes I knew it was because I was white. Sometimes I just really didn't know why. Some days I would cry and be full of anger but it slowly turned into respect, humbleness, appreciation, strength, value and even pride. I suppose things could have gone differently but then I wouldn't have learned to value people's stories. I didn't know what to say when my 14 year old neighbor got pregnant or another became a drug addict. I had known these girls since we were little and all played tag at night and took turns cooking meals for one another and danced to 90's music making up dance routines. Maybe they weren't my best friends but they were my friends. I do it for the little girl that still lives inside of me. The one I want to run to and hug, apologize to, answer questions for. I didn't know that he didn't love me, we were 14. It's not anyone's fault. It's not mine or mom's or my community's, it's life. I'm not better than them but I will fight to be the best that I can be. Sometimes it feels so hopeless being surrounded by it all, it would all be much easier if we could just pack up and leave. Some things would follow us, things that we probably would think that we'd be leaving behind, but it's true that most problems would stay.
Some people fight dirty, I've noticed that they almost never win. My mom taught me to fight with kindness, to fight with my mind, with my actions, with my words. Sometimes I just have to express myself:sing, write, read, paint, photograph, draw, create, scream. Maybe those kids didn't know that there were so many ways to express themselves, countless non-destructive activities. I'm sure I could be a camp counselor but I'm not sure if as a kid I really cared what my camp counselors had to say. Well, there were some I liked. I went to a church camp for a few years starting from fourth grade. I thank God that my teacher asked me to stay after class one day to tell me about it. I received scholarships and went with my best friend at the time. Looking up at the stars and feeling free to cry in church were the most amazing things I was enabled to do as a kid. I'm sure a lot of kids felt the way that I did.
I wanted Etnies and cable. My friend told everyone at the table that I was lying when I told them that I had cable too. I hated her for it. She would make fun of me a lot. She had parent issues but never had to deal with the financial struggle that we did. I wish that everyone judged you for your heart instead of the brand you repped. I don't like to think or talk about these things because I don't want to make my mother cry. I think the hardest days were when I made my mother cry. Sometimes I blame my dad. My mom yelled at me when I called him my 'sperm donor' one day, not wanting to acknowledge him with the word 'dad' or 'father.' I hate him. But I don't really. I blame him sometimes. Truthfully though, I barely spend anytime thinking about him. I think about my mom everyday. I may think about her every hour. I was jealous as a kid when my brother asked my mom to marry him, I wanted to marry her. I knew it wouldn't work out as he asked first. We used to dress him up in girly clothes and laugh until we couldn't breathe.
We went to the park a lot, fed the ducks. I'll never forget the day my mom's friend, who drove food shipments around gave us about 20 leftover loaves of bread to feed the ducks. I can see the water, the sand, the landscape. The sun was fading into the dusk as we ripped open bag after bag and spread each piece of bread all over the sand. We stood back and watched the ducks go wild. It was exhilarating.
There's so much more that I could say. Every deceit, tear, betrayal, every heart break, lesson, "whatever," the time we went to live in a home, the time our fish died and we buried them in our front yard and had to dig them back up again because they smelt, the day I put a flag pole in my mouth and went to open the car door and accidentally pushed the pole into the inside of my throat-leaving me coughing blood and throbbing with pain, we were on our way to a memorial service for 9/11, that's why we had flags.
I cried. The day we pulled up in front of the middle school that I was supposed to go to because it was in my district. I pleaded my mom, "please don't make me go here mommy, please!" The day that she registered us at our nearby middle school, 15 minutes north of our town, close, by proximity, but just far enough to be different, things changed forever, she was my hero. I never could tell you why my mom was my hero when I was young but I just knew that she was the first one that came to my mind. Now I see what she did for us. Strength. My mom is the strongest. She's like a superhero. She just needs a cape and a bat mobile. I think she must have been clairvoyant, seeing what our lives would have been had we let ourselves become victims of circumstance, swept up with the tide. I don't resent or regret any person or moment. I just want to learn from what I've experienced, what I've observed, what I am now educated enough to analyze and I want to make a change. An outsider can pity the poor and throw money at them but an insider knows the why and will ask the question of "how." How can I change this pattern? How can I save these kids from going down the wrong path and what can I do about it? Helping people doesn't happen from standing on a pedestal, real change occurs standing next to your fellow neighbors and offering a hand. I'm not going to run away from you because you're different, I'm going to offer my ear so that you have a friend to confide in, offer a hand so that you can build something or create a piece of work. Honestly it is the people that you meet in life that get you through, that you remember along the way, that inspire you, that save you, that acknowledge you, whose presence makes a difference, who encourage me, who I want to thank, who I want to be. I want to be a person that you remember. I want to inspire, encourage and listen like many did for me. I remember all the negative commentary but it's the positive messages that kept me going. Teachers, neighbors, counselors, friends, friend's parents, random encounters, thank you. I can love the world, I can save a life, I can motivate, I can listen, I can give, I can build, I believe, I don't always know why but I try.
How amazing it feels to travel,to submerse yourself in a second language,in an unfamiliar territory. Madrid Study Abroad 2012-2013=the most amazing, unique and unforgettable year of my life. I want to keep that 
Mis amigas del Coral Nayru! 
In Pamplona at the Running of the Bulls!
The partying! Be the life of the party but also remember to live life and not get caught up in partying.
Il Duomo, Florence, Italy. 
The monuments and precious moments... Now left to a memory or a photograph but the nostalgia of looking through the pictures and reminiscing in the memories brings it all back! 
Never losing sight of your passions and what's important. I wouldn't be me if I didn't sing. Finding a choir abroad transformed my whole experience and reminded me of the "chispa" that is music, singing and choir! 
