Where I'm From

My favorite school assignment so far.  Where I'm From.  To be read to the Social Justice in Education class tomorrow night.  This was a wonderful chance to reminisce and write about the wonderful childhood I had.

WHERE I’M FROM

I am from micro machines and G.I. Joes

From wrestling matches and time outs on the top stair.

I am from music books and parents nagging to ‘practice harder’, ‘focus more’, and ‘do that part again’.

I am from dirty feet and callused toes.  From pink tights, leotard wedgies, and dance moms watching from the one-way window.

I am from “Don’t forget to say thank you.”  “Did you say thank you?”  and snide “you're welcome’s” before I could even remember to say thank you.

I am from five am family prayer, from Mormonism, from tennis balls, and night games.

I am from “you have as much responsibility to make me happy as I have to make you happy.”

I am from bear hugs and bald heads.

I am from Randy and teary eyes and Susan and great teeth.

I am from cancer and losing and I am from cancer and winning.

I am from bookshelves and homemade bread.

I am from broken basketball hoops and green porch swings.  From open fields and sno cones.

I am from safety and care.  Listening ears and kissing lips, holding hands, head massages, and painted fingernails.

I am from I love you’s.  I miss you’s and I’ll be seeing you’s.

I am from concern.

I am from compassion.

And I am from family.

I am a part of something much larger than myself, much grander than frizzy curls, and much more important than getting a good parking place.

I am a daughter.

I am a sister.

I am a wife.

And I am a life maker.

I am from every person I’ve ever met.  I am the neighborhood kids, the girls from church, and the cousins.

I am them and we are me.