I often sit back and reflect upon my life with awe. How did I make it this far? What am I doing here? I definately don’t belong. Most of the time people either love me and can’t get enough or I annoy them beyond belief. People are often so amazingly proud of me, but when I can’t give them everything, they quickly are dissapointed in me. I often don’t know how to relate to others and find myself alone.
On that note, people tend to accept me as one of them and don’t realize or know or even understand my background because it does not pertain to them or affect them in any way. The problem with this is that they say things that completely blow me away with disgust and disdain settles in. They have no idea just how much I am offended by their generalizations and comments. So, here goes.
So, the other day I was at lunch and some peers got back on the rant the poor are useless and will do nothing but continue to breed if we keep feeding them.
Here is my story:
My mother comes from a poor couple from middle America. My grandparents worked on chicken ranches and my grandfather later drove trucks. Her older brother was a gang member and was affiliated with several crimes and in and out of jail. My mother lost her first child when she was fourteen years old and married my father when she was sixteen. My father comes from a family of thirteen children and an alcoholic abusive father who died when the children were young leaving his older sisters to raise all thirteen kids. Growing up I had uncles who sold drugs, and cousins in gangs. My father was one of the largest drug dealers in Fontana when I was four years old. Our house was constantly in turmoil with visitors, police, and whatever else found its way there. My mother found God when I was five. Sadly, shortly thereafter, my father found himself in trouble.
After many times of back and forth relocating, my mother finally enrolled us in a women’s shelter. This shelter was highly secret and we were separated from all family contact. My mom took classes and found help to get us settled on her own. I had nightmares all of the time. She used to have to tuck the sheets around me to keep me from sleep walking. We moved into a small house and she found government assistance and a new life. My dad found our new life and moved in with new promises. Several months later AA didn’t help anymore and he found his old ways and forgot his promises.
My mom took a few changes of clothes and we escaped one night to Tennessee. When we arrived, she had hoped her grandparents would accept us with open arms. She was told that they wanted none of our trouble. We were refused stuck in the city with no money. We found the nearest homeless shelter and stayed until we could figure out what to do. I was eight years old.
My mom broke down and called my dad’s older sister begging for help. We waited and she sent money for us to take a bus to find she and her family in Ohio. We lived in Ohio for two years. First with my aunt, then with my grandma. My dad moved with us to my grandma’s house until we could get a house of our own. Eventually we moved into a house in a little town ironically called, Felicity. There wasn’t much happiness in this town. I remember my mom annointing the doors and praying every night for fear of her own life and mine. Every night. I remember cockroaches and the smell of alcohol. I remember hiding in cupboards, being kidnapped. I remember broken furniture and smashed plates. I remember police knowing my dad by name. I remember yelling. I remember leaving my beloved dad without saying goodbye. Again.
Again we were on the Greyhound bus for a seven day trip with less than ten dollars for food. We ate jam, crackers and water. My mom sacrificed food so that I could eat. We arrived in California when I was ten. We had no where to live. No money. Nothing. We stayed with grandparents, we lived with 93 year old grouchy woman. We lived in gross tiny apartments. We survived. Yes I had free lunch. Yes I had a mom with limited education. Yes, I even have my own learning disabilities. But I think it was all worth it.
I don’t think that I, my mother, or my father, uncles or cousins are useless.
I don’t think that my students are worthless.
I am my students.
So how dare you say things that you have no idea, no inkling of what it is like. Please.
By the way, I was fed and I stopped breeding several years ago.