A Cripple

“On Being a Cripple” by Nancy Mairs really stood out and caught my attention. Since the age of twenty-eight Nancy was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. The one thing about Nancy that caught my eye was her willingness to continue with whatever she needed to do. She did not give up on herself and take the lazy way out. She was a strong woman who did not let anyone label her; instead she labeled herself, “A Cripple.”

“ What in my life would I give up in exchange for sound limbs and a thrilling rush of energy? No one. Nothing.” This was my favorite quote of the story, because it shows Mairs courageous characteristics. Nancy’s friend had asked her if she ever asked God “why me.” And her response was “No,” because she would not wish her disease on anyone else. I could recall plenty of times where I would say to myself “Why me,” whenever I was frustrated with an illness. I never thought that if it weren’t me, then it would be someone else.

Another thing that got my attention about Nancy was her attitude towards herself. She did not let her disease take over her life; instead she took over her disease. Instead of complaining about her life, she learned to accept her disease and live her life to the fullest. Just as any ill person Nancy does wish that a cure was found but for now, she is doing what she feels she has to do in order to survive.

My Life and Me

For a while, I had no clue as to who I was, or what my purpose was for that matter. As a child I had really low self-esteem. It got so bad that I refused to leave the house. And if I did, then it was because I “Had” to go to school. I never saw myself as a pretty person. I was really self-concise about my weight and no one could convince me otherwise. In my head I thought I was ugly, over weight, and will never amount to anything. So what was my purpose?

Throughout life I found it really hard to trust anybody that came down my path. I have had my heart broken so many times as I was growing up, that I just shut everyone and everything out. Not only did I have bad relationships, but I also had bad friendships. So I pretty much kept to myself, and I didn’t have anyone in my life at that time that I could trust. I went through a stage of depression for a long time. I figured that I was mainly depressed because I refused to let my true feelings out to anyone and as a teenager I did not want to go to my mother about anything. She would constantly remind my sister and I, “ Mother’s know everything.” But still I never did spill any information. So I just let all my feelings and anger sit on my shoulders. Of course my mother knew that something was wrong, but I tried my hardest to keep my feelings to myself. I could remember countless nights where I would lay in bed and cry myself to sleep. When I heard my mother coming down the hall, our wooden floor would squeak. So I would put the blanket over my head and pretend that I was asleep, just so she could not see the tears running down my face.

Two thousand and four, ninth grade at St. Mary’s Academy, was mostly a year of getting use to more changes. Since three girls from my middle school attended high school with me, I pretty much just stuck with those I knew until I found a place to fit in comfortably. I remember at the beginning of the year everyone was friends with everyone, and as freshmen I guess that was a big deal. At break and lunchtime, a huge sum of us arranged ourselves in the quad. We moved about four lunch benches and lined them up. I can’t remember why we did this, maybe for a sense of security; I don’t know. But every single day for almost the whole year, it seemed like we had arranged assign seating for ourselves. For me being part of this group meant nothing; it just meant that I had someone to sit with during the breaks. This year was extremely confusing. I didn’t know who I was, especially since my older sister’s friends, and even some teachers branded me “Little JoJo.” I never felt that I could fully be me. I never minded being in my sister’s shadow because that was the only time that made me feel like I was somebody, even though deep inside I knew I wasn’t.

Nevertheless, tenth grade for me made a complete turn around. I was still in my sister’s shadow, but by the end of the year I could define who I really was. I can honestly say this is because of my best friend. I have crossed a lot of people who say that no person can bring down or build up someone else’s self-esteem. They say that self-esteem is built within you, and no one can help or hurt it but you. In having a personal experience, I could honestly say that another person’s input really does make a difference. Christina got me to realize that I should be happy with who I am, no matter what anyone else thinks. She told me not to pay attention to what anyone else says, as long as I am comfortable with myself that’s all that matters. After a while I realized that throughout many conversations we had, I actually felt comfortable talking to someone about any and everything, whether in the past or present. It was the best feeling ever, and I knew I could trust her. She was always there for me no matter what the situation was, and still is today. It was not easy for me to warm up to her at first, but all it took was baby steps. It was Christmas vacation and I remember calling my best friend to tell her something. I was so nervous and I didn’t know where to start. I told her that something was bothering me, and I needed to tell her right away. The first thing that she told me was “ I already know.” I was quiet for a while, and then she continued, “ I already know you’re gay, I have a gaydar remember?” That comment broke the ice. We laughed it off and continued our conversation. I don’t even know why I was so nerves to begin with, besides she’s a lesbian herself, I guess it was just the fact that I was letting this information out for the first time in two years. I finally got a huge load off my shoulders that day now the only thing that was on my mind was someone else finding out, or even more important my mother.

A year has gone by and this was the year when I finally identified myself as a lesbian. This year I “Came out” to friends, as well as my family, and it was not easy. For a while I was scared to admit that I was a lesbian, mainly because of all the judgmental people that are in the world. But the main reason why I was afraid to “ Come out the closet,” was because I finally felt like I fitted in, and I did not want to ruin any friendships. I told myself that I had to do this for me, and whatever happens in the end was or wasn’t meant to be, and when it was all said and done I still had my best friend. So it was known around the entire school that Janay and her best friend are lesbians. And we were completely fine with that, and to my surprise so was every single one of my friends. Once everyone at school knew, I felt like I was living a double life. When I was at school I could be who I was, but once I got home I felt like I was living a lie, and I really hated that feeling. I couldn’t do it anymore, one day I was on the phone with my best friend, and I told her that I was ready to tell my mother. She said “Go ahead, and call me when you’re done.”
I was so scared; I had millions of thoughts running through my mind. I asked my mother and my sister to come down stairs because I had to talk to them. As I heard their footsteps come down the stair, my heart began to beat faster and faster. We sat at the dining room table, I remained quiet for a few minutes, I had never been so nervous in my life. I began playing with my fingers, while refusing to look up. “ I’m” is what I said over and over again until my sister said, “ You’re, you’re what?” I took a deep breath and said, “Lesbian.” Everyone was quiet for a while it was dead silence for about a minute, but that felt like a lifetime. Then my mother said to me, “ I already suspected that.” I said, “You did, ” she said “ I told you time and time again, mothers know everything.” Then my sister responds with a “Duh, I knew for a while now its not that hard to point out.” I was so relieved; it wasn’t as bad as I thought. My mother explained to me that she supports my sister and I in whatever we do, and her love for us is unconditional no matter what the situation may be. After we talked I called my best friend back and told her what happened. We talked and laughed about the whole thing. I remember thinking to myself that I had no reason to afraid of telling my mother, because her sister is a homosexual herself. It was all over, and now for the first time in my life I felt complete.
For a few years now I have felt much better about myself. I could honestly say that without my best friend’s words of encouragement, I do not know where I would be today. She was also the person who told me to go after what I want and not wait for it to come to me. And after listening to her, I finally found myself in a serious relationship for the first time in my life.

I have been with my girlfriend for almost two years now. Along with my best friend, my girlfriend has played a huge role in my life as well. She encourages me to keep going when I start to give up on myself, and she has been here for me through all the rough times. She understands everything about my past and I am 100% sure that I could trust her with my heart. 2006, eleventh grade was by far the best year of my life. Not only was I out of my older sisters shadow because she had just graduated, but also because I finally found peace within myself. I finally enjoyed life; I enjoyed going to school every day, and most of all I enjoyed myself. I have a brand new perspective on life, this was the year that I established who exactly Janay Clemons was, a lesbian, and I would not change for anyone.

Hair Matters?

Mee Street Chronicles by Frankie Lennon, in the story “Plaits”, the author is saying that images of beauty and obsessions with hair were “Programmed” into females by American society. Beauty plays a major role in everyone’s life, especially for Frankie. Just like in today’s society we are made to believe that we should look like the models in magazine, or the actors and actress in Hollywood. As people of color we are constantly pushed into looking like the white people. . Being a person of color I can actually admit that dealing with my hair was really complicated and frustrating to handle as I was growing up.

I still remember like it was yesterday, I had to wake up for school early just so that my mother could comb my hair. Most of the time she had to comb it in the morning because I was so tender headed that I would move for every little tug. I hated getting my hair combed, every time I moved my mother would pop me with the comb in my head. And I would not dare to scratch, because then I would get popped on my hand. My hair was so unmanageable that the only hairstyles my mother could do were plaits, and that made me so mad. As I grew up I wanted the one ponytails or a bun like the rest of my friends, but my hair was too “Thigh” for those hairstyles. I don’t know which one was worse, having my mother comb my hair or getting it braided in millions of braided that took all day long to finish. I always complained, I hated my hair I could never do what I wanted to it, besides the hairstyles my mother did or the braids she would pay someone to do that was my hairstyle for life. My mother would say that I was blessed with those genes from my father’s family, but I never saw it as a blessing. A typical non-mixed African American’s hair is described as nappy, thigh and full of kinkles or some might even say “Beady Beads”. I heard those words my whole life even through high school. I was constantly reminded of how nappy my hair was, and how I looked like I came start from Africa.

In this story Frankie is constantly talking about wanting to look like the kid star, Shirley Temple. Shirley Temple was portrayed as the perfect little angel, with perfect curly blonde hair that every little girl should want. But because Frankie was African American, her hair texture was always thought of as being nappy, and difficult to mange. She believed that the only way she was going to look good was if she looked just like Shirley Temple. Nevertheless, we have to remember it is not the color of our skin or the texture of our hair that makes us beautiful. It is the person that’s inside us that defines our beauty.

The Power of Language

I would have to say that I do use different dialects of English, but this mainly depends on whom I am around at that period of time. Even though I do not think of “ Slang” as another language, most of the time it feels as if it is my second language. “ Slang” is just like any other language you have to speak, write, and understand “Slang” in order to get the correct meaning that you want. Don’t get me wrong, when I am around people of higher authority my way of dialect turns completely around.

I remember one day when I was sitting in my friend’s dorm room, and as we were all talking, Vanessa walked in the room. My first statement towards her was “ Wutz up shawty,” but in a joking manner of course. Everyone else in the room began to laugh at how puzzled she appeared. Even though the others may have understood what I said, she stood there with a blank face for nearly two minutes. Then I immediately had to explain to her that, “ Wutz up shawty” is slang for “ How are you doing?” And the word “Shawty” is mainly directed towards females. Because Vanessa was not raised around people who spoke “ Slang,” she could not grasp the understanding of my phrases that I would throw at her. To sum up, the key to this dialect is to know when and when not to use it.

Most people I talk to especially over text message or even on “AIM” type in short hand and does not require you to write whole words out. For example, “ Would you like to go to the movies”, in short hand you would simply say “ Wud u lke 2 go 2 da movies”. In the means of text messages short hand is the easiest and fastest way to get your point across. Some people have to write the whole word out, and include every single punctuation mark. But once again you have to remember that everyone does not understand short hand.

Don’t get me wrong, when it is the time and place I do speak “ Proper” and “Correct” English. One time I went to the eyeglass doctor and he asked me if I had a family member in the military, because every question he asked me, I would respond with a yes or no sir. He also told me that he was extremely proud to hear me speak “Proper” English to someone in authority. I glanced at my sister and she looked at him with that face of “If you only knew”. This just goes to show that the power of language is really strong. Even if you are not bilingual, knowing one language and the entire do’s and don’ts about the language is challenging enough.

Frightening situations

In the story “No Escape” from The Mee Street Chronicles by Frankie Lennon, the narrator who is a young child, finds herself in a frightening situation, and tries to pull herself through. Just like any young person who is practically all alone in the middle of the night, the narrator feels lonely and afraid. There is one character trait that was extremely noticeable throughout the story, which was her very imaginative imagination. She mentions things that she believes are after her, things that are trying to harm her like the “shadow monsters”, and evil voices that are speaking to her. The most obvious fact that points out just how imaginative she is is when she has conversations with her “Godfairy mother”, and the “Sandman”. Another trait that I see in this young girl is determination. Any ordinary three year old girl would have given up long before she started. When a little child is lost and afraid their first instinct is to stand in one spot and cry until someone hears them, but not this character. She never gave up, she knew that all she wanted was her parents and she did not stop until she got back into their arms.

This story reminds me of times where I was home by myself when my mother would go to the store, or out for the night. Anyone who knows me, know that I hate being left alone, or even to be by myself for that matter, especially not at night. I remember the times when I was left home alone, sometimes even with my older sister there I was still afraid. There were numerous times where I would just sit there waiting for my mother to come back, I would not move one inch not even to go to the bathroom. No matter what time of the day it was I would hear all kinds of noises, and think that there was something going to get me. But nevertheless I made it through, just like the young girl in “No Escape”.

The Best of Both Worlds

In life at this moment “love” is a subject that has been both painful as well as pleasurable for various reasons. When we are introduced to the concept of love in a relationship, we are always given the same-modeled behavior as we grow up. We are told that love is the physical attraction between two people, who are really and truly happy with each other. Whether it is a movie, or even a fairy tale we are read every night as a child, the story is always the same. The couple is always portrayed as being worry and conflict free. It seems like in every story about love, there is always a happy ending. And then again I guess that‘s why we call it a “story”. But what if things don’t end so happily? Then who’s responsible for our hearts being broken in the end? Why is it so hard to express the hardships as well as good times of a relationship? But in reality we are being denied the full effect, the whole truth behind love, that fact that love can be pleasurable and painful.

There are some pleasant factors of love in a relationship. The feeling that there is someone who is always there for you no matter what you are going through. To add, the fact that it feels good to know that you have someone who you can call upon for comfort. The enjoyment you get when you hear “I love you” before you go to sleep, and as soon as you wake up. The feeling you get after that is priceless. There is no questioning that you can find that same type person within your friends and family, but the feeling that this person is neither a family member nor a friend, is what makes the feeling worth the while. And of course the obvious factor which is, that there is someone right beside you when you need that romantic cuddling in the middle of the night. Nevertheless, you are confident that, that love one will always be there when you need them, and that trust is the greatest feeling in the world.

Along with the pleasant sides of love, there are also the unpleasant sides as well. There are the details that most stories, movies, and even original fairy tales refuse to mention as we grow up. Details that seem like we are just expected to experience and get through ourselves, the “heartaches of love.” It is extremely difficult to figure out for yourself what to do when you can’t trust a person, mainly because you have had your heart broken too many times before. And when every single night you are dealing with arguments that lead to more arguments, and your wondering if things would ever get better. And when it comes a point in the relationship that whenever you call their phone and there’s no answer, you can’t help but think that they are doing something wrong. The countless times they give you an excuse as to why they didn’t come over. And you are totally unprepared for the time when you find out that the one you deeply love is cheating on you. How do you deal with the pain? Some say you will be okay, and that life moves on. But realistically it is not that easy to do.

Inspirational Reading

" Learning to Read", by Malcolm X is an excellent inspirational story, that I highly recommend to many. The story enables you to imagine the mental and physical pain that African Americans endured at that time. Nevertheless, throughout it all, there were still people like Malcolm X who took the initiative to teach themselves inorder to further their knowledge.

Two things that disappointed me during my winter vacation

There were two main things that disappointed me during my winter holidays, my Auntie got sicker and my close friend ended up in the hospital. I left The Mount on December 14, 2007 with the thought that I would be free for five whole weeks. I was so excited, because for five weeks I did not have to worry about homework, test, or even writing papers. I believed I was worry-free. The only thing that was on my mind was going to San Bernardino to stay with my best friend at Cal State San Bernardino, and everything else after that would fall in place. Nevertheless, there were a few hold-ups before and after my trip to San Bernardino.

The first event that disappointed me during the winter vacation was, my Auntie getting sick, and since I was not around I could not be there for her or my cousins. About three days before I was to leave, my mother received a phone call from my Auntie. When my mother got off the phone, I could tell that something was wrong; my mother is not very good at hiding her facial expression no matter how hard she tries. About three years ago my Auntie was diagnosed with breast cancer, so she has been through numerous amounts of chemo and radiation therapy. Without hesitation I asked my mother if everything was okay. And that’s when she began to explain to me that things were going from bad to worse. For a few months my Aunt has been experiencing swelling and pain in her right arm, and nobody really understood why until now. Come to find out due to so much radiation therapy her nerves in her arm and fingers are damaged. So she has now been diagnosed with Erb’s Palsy, the same disability that I was diagnosed with at birth. This means that we have little or no motion in our arm or hand.

The second event that disappointed me during my winter vacation was my close friend being in the hospital, and as a friend I needed to be there. About a week before I returned to school. One of my close friends from high school had got sick and was in the hospital. Since birth she was diagnosed with sickle cell anemia, so throughout her life she has been in and out of the hospital with what the doctors call a “crisis”. From what I have witnessed after many days of visitation for the past four years, when she experiences a crisis it is really painful and the only way to get through it is throw medication like antibiotics and also IV fluids. And sometimes she may need a blood transfusion as well. This time was different, and I would never forget it, this day was full of emotions that took prayer to get through. Not only was she in a lot of pain, but she was also going through some personal issues that did not allow her to get any better, only worse. At this point in her life it was extremely important for her to realize that she had a lot of friends and family members who cared about her, and that she could not give up without a fight. I believe that once she understood that, she started to look at life a whole lot differently.

Even though there was some sorrow during my vacation I did have fun and go to San Bernardino to stay with my best friend. As a result I guess I could say that my winter vacation was not really a disappointment in the since that I learned a valuable lesson from both situation. I learned that everything happens for a reason, and that you should be grateful for what you have or even in some cases, for what you don’t have.

On My Way to School

This morning when I woke up I begin my usual journey to school. I see a lot of things along the way, but since I take the same route to school every morning, then the sight is the same. Depending on the traffic, every ride to school is a different one. As I get in my car and drive down the street there are the same stray dogs wandering around, and they tend to scare my neighbor Mrs. Alberts every morning without fail. I am pleased to say that this morning driving down Florence is calm, except for the occasional food trucks blocking the view. As I continue on my merry way, I pass by a donut shop where there are plenty of police officers picking up dozens donuts; it looks as if they are going to feed an army. I turn the corner onto Figueroa, one of the busiest streets to drive on in the morning. Monday is the day that I have to pick up my friend outside of her gorgeous two-story house.

After leaving her house, I drive down the street and a red light that was in front of a school stopped me. This light takes about ten minutes to change. We see a lady struggling to get her infant, and two toddlers, out of her four door silver minivan before they become late for school. She has her infant in one arm crying; and her two toddlers, twin boys are running around chasing each other and throwing their backpacks in the air.

As I draw closer to the school grounds, I find myself stuck in a massive traffic jam that seems to be backed up for miles ahead. I look at the clock in my car and I realize that my class starts in five minutes. I thought to myself, “If I can get in the school parking lot within the next two minutes I will make it to class.” I sit and wait for traffic to move along, but everything seems to be moving at a rate of five miles per hour. After getting out of traffic I try my hardest to reach school, and once I see Adams Street, my nerves are calm. The whole parking lot is full; but luckily I have a handicap sticker, so getting a spot was no difficult task. I got my backpack out of my trunk, and make it to class with one minute to spare.