I
am five years old and my life changed today.
I love my school and its name, Tawanka.
It reminds me of stories my mother would tell me about her love for
Native American heritage. My mother once told me, before I
was born she decided she was going to name me, Konoko. She told me the
name meant, “This child”. I’m glad she
choose a more suitable name for me, Jennifer, meaning “fair one”. Tawanka is an Indian expression that actually
means, “Willingness to achieve”.
I
am in kindergarten and I think I am definitely willing to achieve anything,
especially climbing to the top of the monkey bars. My favorite place is the coolest spot in the
entire school, the recess yard. There
are animals strategically painted on the outside walls of the playground. It gives me the feeling that I am in the
jungle. The first thing I do during
recess is run across the blacktop to the dome-shaped monkey bars located in the
center of the yard. Today, I was halfway
up to the top of the hollow steel circle when a bee landed on my head. I didn’t know it was a bee when I touched it.
That angry bee pressed it’s stinger into
my hand and left me with tears in my eyes and a very strange feeling in my
body. It was my first bee-sting and a
traumatic one at best. Today, my family
and I learned I have an allergy to bee-stings.
I
am eight years old and I lost something today.
This morning was just like every other day of the school year. My brother and I woke up and got ready for
school. We ate a bowl of cheerios for
breakfast before leaving our three bedroom home located in a small residential
community. School was no different than
the day before except for the quiz I had in religion class. At the end of the school day, our bus dropped
us off at the end of our street just where it had picked us up almost seven
hours earlier. We live halfway up the
street. As my brother and I walked
toward our home, adorned in our tacky green private school uniforms, I noticed
something out of the ordinary. I
squinted my eyes and saw red and blue flashing lights in front of our home. There were cars surrounding my house. I held my brothers hand and stopped walking. I saw my father in handcuffs. His hair was messy and there was blood
dripping from his nose. A police officer
had him by the arm and pushed his head down to assist him into the backseat of
a police car. I don’t know how this
makes me feel because my father is an abusive and unpredictable man. What I do know, is word will travel fast so I
will have to put on the tough girl act so no one picks on me. I don’t know when I will see my father again,
nor do I care.
I
am twelve years old and I just experienced my first spiritual awakening. Two of my girlfriends and I steal some Canadian
Whisky from my parents’ bar and we head down to the baseball-fields. I believe I fell in love from the very first
sip. My jaw tenses as I take my first
swig, I feel the burn as it goes down my throat and the warm explosion when it
lands in my belly. I want more and
more. I don’t want to stop. This stuff is making me feel good and
quieting my mind. Nothing else matters
but me, in this moment, at last I have arrived.
I
am fifteen years old and I am seeing the world differently. I hop on a train and run away from the only
home I ever knew. I want to run away
from my life and the addiction that is taking my choices away. It’s cold and rainy and I am alone on city
streets. I meet a bum sleeping on the street
vents to keep warm. I give him money to
buy himself some liquor and pick up a bottle for me. I say thank you and move on. I am at peace until my drink is gone.
I
am thirty eight years old and I have a gun to my head. I owe bad people money and bad people owe me
money. I have emotionally abandoned my
only child and deceived the only man who truly loves me. I am home alone sitting on my bed. Tears are streaming down my face. My hands are beginning to tremble. I place the gun back where it belongs and grab
a bottle of vodka. My shaking begins to
subside but the pain of living this life is still present. I drop to my knees and pray to die. Little do I know that my prayers will be
answered.
I
am forty two years old and I am about to graduate from college. Through a miraculous series of events, Grace
appeared and saved me from myself. I
feel like I am five years old again climbing the monkey bars of life;
overcoming obstacles and achieving potentials that were lost along the way. I daily reflect upon my life; where I came
from and where I am now. The biggest lesson
I have learned along this amazing journey is that once you show a little
willingness coupled with surrender, anything is achievable.
Today I am a wife,
mother, student, and a productive member of society. I am no longer defined by the wreckage of my
past but for the person I have discovered inside of me. It has been almost four years since I left my
past behind and I am grateful for the day it broke me. There are no regrets but a lesson I have
learned and a lesson I can teach. Today,
I am happy and free to be me……
