Ever since I was a very little girl school was always my favorite place to be. Despite school peer troubles and moving around so much, I was always able to keep up in school. The only times I’ve ever really had trouble keeping up were when I was in the 7th grade and made a desperate attempt to get help by refusing to do schoolwork, and in college the last couple years. I’ve always had nice teachers; even the very strict ones who didn’t understand the trouble I was having were nice. I’ve always loved to learn, and couldn’t keep my hands off of any genre of books until my eyes got bad. I love to write and read, so even after my eyes got the way they are now I refuse to stay away from any English-related activity.
Comprehension when it comes to college story-books has always been a serious problem for me. My teachers, knowing I was smart, assumed I could understand anything that came my way, and their viewpoints made it hard for me to enjoy trying to learn what I was supposed to learn. Those college level storybooks always had an underlying meaning I could never figure out. This was the only reason I passed with a C in high school.
Grammar and spelling have always come easy to me, as did school itself, because it was my get-away from home life. While everyone else was struggling to keep up, I was whizzing by in these two subjects. I frequently voluntarily tutored many of my peers, but the one time I had trouble in grammar, so too did the rest of the class because I helped teach them how to understand it. For that reason, the whole class had trouble with one subject in grammar that otherwise only a few of us would have had trouble in.
I could always pick up a book and be in some wonderful otherworldly life in the snap of my fingers, and I frequently roamed the world of books. The world of books was always much better than reality as a child, and even now, but I lost my ability to fully give myself away to my books when I went to a group home at 14.
Still to this day I love to learn, which is why I pursued my childhood dream of going to college. Even as a little girl I knew there were ways to pay for college even though I wouldn’t have been able to afford it if it weren’t for being part of DHHS most of my teenage years and grants from college. I thank DHHS and EMCC for helping me pursue my college dream, because if it weren’t for them I may not have gotten far enough.
Friday, January 21, 2011
week 2
Bright sunny day and I don’t want to be out here, but still I’m forced out of the house. I’m only about 10 years old and I have to be around misbehaving younger children, and yet I’m in charge of them as always. As much as I’d rather be inside in my own little world that lies within my books, I have to be out here with everyone else.
There’s birds flying around like this world is somehow pleasant for them and I just don’t get what there is to be happy about. Chipmunks and squirrels run around like no tomorrow, seemingly not doing a thing, though they look so busy it only makes me wonder where they seem to be going in such a hurry.
Still, my evil stepsister lurks around, searching for trouble to start, and she finds it easily. Still my sister and I think there must be some good in her, that she can’t be all bad, because she’s only about 7 years old herself. But this is the day she proves us wrong.
“Come with me. I want to show this really cool thing I found in the woods.”
“What is it?”
“There’s this box with bees in it. They’re safe. Don’t worry. They won’t hurt you.”
“Okay.” Crystal and I reply in unison.
We follow her part way into the woods. My sister and I get close enough to see a huge box at least 3 ft. wide, long and thick swarming with bees. She’s a distance away and has that look on her face she gets when she’s about to do something bad. She picks up a stick and we beg her not to throw it as we stand there frozen and in a split second she tosses that stick as hard as she can at the box and runs inside. My sister and I see the bees swarm our way and flee in panic, but don’t make it inside before several of them sting us both.
Inside safe and sound, or so it should be, there they are drinking away. What are we supposed to do? Go back outside? Why yes. They tell us in a drunken stupor we have to go back outside with the angry swarm of bees. If we don’t go out, they say, we are defying them and we’re to be punished. So which of the two evils do I choose? Outside. And I see the two of them won’t go outside with me, but they aren’t being punished. Luckily the bees have gone away, but now I’m brimming with anger, resentment and jealousy that they can be inside and not be punished while I have to be outside or I’ll be beaten.
I wait until it gets dark and they have to let me in, stars in the sky and a cool breeze at my back. I’d rather stay out by now but it’s time for my daily punishment. Gosh, I can’t wait until I’m grown and can choose to go outside or not, and not have to worry about evil stepsisters ruining our day even more. One day outside passed by, but still the torture goes on.
There’s birds flying around like this world is somehow pleasant for them and I just don’t get what there is to be happy about. Chipmunks and squirrels run around like no tomorrow, seemingly not doing a thing, though they look so busy it only makes me wonder where they seem to be going in such a hurry.
Still, my evil stepsister lurks around, searching for trouble to start, and she finds it easily. Still my sister and I think there must be some good in her, that she can’t be all bad, because she’s only about 7 years old herself. But this is the day she proves us wrong.
“Come with me. I want to show this really cool thing I found in the woods.”
“What is it?”
“There’s this box with bees in it. They’re safe. Don’t worry. They won’t hurt you.”
“Okay.” Crystal and I reply in unison.
We follow her part way into the woods. My sister and I get close enough to see a huge box at least 3 ft. wide, long and thick swarming with bees. She’s a distance away and has that look on her face she gets when she’s about to do something bad. She picks up a stick and we beg her not to throw it as we stand there frozen and in a split second she tosses that stick as hard as she can at the box and runs inside. My sister and I see the bees swarm our way and flee in panic, but don’t make it inside before several of them sting us both.
Inside safe and sound, or so it should be, there they are drinking away. What are we supposed to do? Go back outside? Why yes. They tell us in a drunken stupor we have to go back outside with the angry swarm of bees. If we don’t go out, they say, we are defying them and we’re to be punished. So which of the two evils do I choose? Outside. And I see the two of them won’t go outside with me, but they aren’t being punished. Luckily the bees have gone away, but now I’m brimming with anger, resentment and jealousy that they can be inside and not be punished while I have to be outside or I’ll be beaten.
I wait until it gets dark and they have to let me in, stars in the sky and a cool breeze at my back. I’d rather stay out by now but it’s time for my daily punishment. Gosh, I can’t wait until I’m grown and can choose to go outside or not, and not have to worry about evil stepsisters ruining our day even more. One day outside passed by, but still the torture goes on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)