This blog shows work prior to 2008. For new writing, click the link listed directly above.

Friday, May 2, 2008

07-08 Writing Exchange VIII & IX

Journal #77
About two months ago, something happened that changed the way I look at certain things in life. I was 16 years old and positive I was with child. I always thought I was being safe. I never thought something like this would happen to me. I was so scared and didn’t know what to do. I recall sitting in the doctor’s office crying my eyes out, not knowing that at that moment I would be faced with a decision, perhaps the most important of my life. My mind was blank. I can’t really remember what was going through my head at the time. All I knew was how scared I was.
How was I going to tell my boyfriend and what would he say about this. I knew we needed to have a talk: a serious talk. But all I could do was cry. After crying myself to sleep several times, I realized what I had to do and that just made me cry even more. I had always been against abortions. I mean it sounds so sad and I never understood how someone could kill something so helpless and innocent. Suddenly, I was in that situation. The more I thought about it the more it made sense to me. I don’t have the job, money, or the support I would need to raise a child. It wasn’t fair to my boyfriend. We had both decided that we wanted to be able to give a baby everything and anything it wants and deserves. Neither one of us has the money to do so, let alone are we ready to take care of a child.
I would feel even worse if I would have brought my child in this world with nothing. As much as I love kids, I just don’t think at this point in my life, I would be able to be a good parent. Of course I would try to be the best I can be and sometimes I wonder and try to imagine a little baby in my arms as if I would never made that choice. It continues to break me down and I have scarred my heart for life. I will never forget what pain I went through physically, but even more so emotionally. Sometimes I wonder if all that pain was the right choice. I don’t think I will ever forgive myself for what I have done and I pray to God to ask him for forgiveness everyday. Now I try to live my life more cautious and safe. If you were to look at me now, I look like a normal teen. Deep inside, the scars and pain are eternal and this sad teenage girl continues to cry herself to sleep.

Journal # 78
I feel like ****. Yesterday my cousin and four friends came to pick me up at school and people made a big ******* deal about it. I don’t know weather to be an *** to the teachers or not to be. I understand that they had to do what they did, but ****! They went too far. My cousin’s car got searched and I got in trouble for it. One of the teachers gave all the names of my homies and the details about the car to probation. All of my homeboys got in trouble.
Now I don’t know what to do. I’d rather be locked up right now. I don’t give a **** right now. People including my teachers want me to stop banging, be good, stay clean, but **** they don’t know how hard it is. I’d give money for one of them to be in my shoes for a day. They couldn’t do it. I would give them 30 minutes. Gun shots and fights are too near to me.

Journal #79
Most of the time, whenever my family went on vacations, they got ruined or canceled because of the fighting. A few of my holidays have been like that too. One Thanksgiving when my aunt and uncle were tweaking, my aunt gave me a .25 cent ring that was my little cousins and my cousin saw it and wanted it back. My aunt told me I had to give it back, but I was busy doing something so I asked my friend to give it to my cousin. Then a couple of minutes later, my aunt came in yelling at me saying I didn’t even have the ******* decency to give it to her and she went on and on. I got pissed at her for making me feel like a piece of ****, so I yelled, “**** you,” and she hit me in the mouth. I cussed at her again and she split my lip open. Then right after that my uncle gave my aunt a fat lip for hitting me. It is hard to believe, but my aunt and I are very close now. I tell her everything.

Journal #80 (Sent Via Mail)
I’m here today in the hall: once again stuck in my cell until July 15th. Why does the hall hate me? Every time I come back, it makes me feel it’s cold hearted hatred. It makes me feel it every time I come back. It’s weird though because in the end, I’m still alive. On the streets if feels the same. People hate me and do mean things to me, but I’m still alive. For example, I’m stuck in a cold cell plus the girl I loved so much left me. The worst is yet to come. Now I might lose some of the family that means the most to me. Regardless, I will still be alive. What if I don’t want to be alive? It is not that I want to give up; I just don’t want to take the torture that is involved in being alive. It hurts me so much that everyone might hate me. Just because I don’t show it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it. In the end I realize that it is not that everyone hates me or that it is hate period. It is just my life.

Journal #81
Life just starts to get harder and harder by the minute as you know. You met my biological at open house. I’ve only known him for like two months out of my 16 years of life. I just don’t get it. I don’t understand why all of a sudden he wants to be a part of my life. At first I was like, **** that. That piece of **** didn’t want to ever help or be there when I needed him, but now I’ve been trying to give him a chance. One thing I’ve made VERY CLEAR is that I will NEVER call him “dad.” My dad is the person who raised me and took care of me when I needed it. I used to think about this situation and tell myself if I ever met my biological, I would knock him out. When I first saw him I wanted to sock him in that face as hard as I could, but I kept my cool and if it wasn’t for my old counselor, I wouldn’t have given him a chance to be in my life. I can say he taught me a couple of things. The first thing he taught me is you can live without a dad. The second thing he taught me is how to drive a stick or 5-speed. That was my first experience with him, but I am giving him a chance. Let me tell you, it isn’t easy.

Journal #82
Because is my answer to the question, “Why don’t you talk to your dad?” It’s very difficult to get over what he has done to me in the past. He ruined his life and brought down mine. It’s very hard for me to talk about him in therapy: remembering every bad thing he did from the beatings to the verbal abuse and everything else.
Now that I hear how he has been doing in Mexico is hard for me to picture him upset, angry, lonely without us being three by his side. He is in a recovery home for alcohol abuse. I would like to support him, but I feel that I’m not ready to see him yet.
When my therapist tries to talk about him, I don’t even dare to go there. I miss my dad and it hurts me to know the life he is in now. I hope to get over my fear of him. Isn’t it crazy to be afraid of the man who gave me a life? Hopefully I get over it one day. “I love you dad.” This is something I can’t say to his face because every time I see him in pictures, the old bad times appear in my mind.

Journal #83
I got lost in the light
Ashes covered the sky like night
I remember that day
Like it was yesterday
When the sky was gray
And it was hot all day
I remember that day
It was like yesterday
I remember that morning
My dad was snoring
In my dream I was flying
Over a river where people were swimming
Under a bridge where people were fishing
Over the crime seen where she was murdered
I remember that morning

Journal #84
I feel so lost, as if I’m in an ocean and I can’t swim. My whole body is filled with fear for myself. I don’t know if my anger will split from my body and do something I will regret. As I am drowning in this ocean, I think about my family and how they can’t save me. They are fighting to keep their own heads above the water of life.

Journal #85
Take a Moment
The lesson that I preach
Nobody took the time to teach me
About what I feel about what I say
What I do in and out of every day
Look in the mirror and tell me what you see
Is this the person I wanted to be
Or is it a mystery that I can’t fix
Everything I hate just thrown in the mix
Memory serves you wrong my man
That never fit into any of my plans
Like black sunshine, it’s just all wrong
I walk through my own house but I just don’t belong
So look in the mirror and tell me what you see
And have the strength to say that just isn’t me
So how am I gonna try to make this right
Will I open my eyes to realize
This world isn’t just black and white
It’s pink and blue and green and red
Maybe today I’ll wake up to shake it up
Wake up on the right side of the bed
Maybe then I can fix myself
Make it all better and erase myself
Notice the world and everything
Spread my soul’s wings and let my heart sing
Dream as big as I want to be
Make it happen make everyone see
That I’m not the same person that you once were
Take a step but make **** sure
That I’m stepping on solid ground
Open my mouth and let flow profound
Words and phrases that nobodies heard
Take a moment and spread the word

Journal # 86
Her eyes glowing like a rainbow
As her burning smile strikes a kiss
Her heart flying in the wind
Dancing with his in the clouds
And as the moon comes out
The sun slowly fades
In a second everything was just a reflection in the mirror
Only a dream of a little girl who feared of love
Because inside she still feel the wounds of a broken heart

Journal #87
My love for you is burning in my heart.
Melting with fear and tears of the night.
I feel like a lightning change in my life.
I feel like I am blind and going on strike.
I am a baby trapped in my mom’s womb.
I am a bad kid who got sent to my room.
I feel so alone and sad. I feel like ****.
I feel like I just got beaten with a stick.

Journal #88
I hate probation because they took my best friend to Juvenile Hall.
I hate the staff for informing probation where she was.
I hate my friend for being so stupid.
I hate myself because I should have told her to hide.
I pretty much hate everyone and everything today.

Journal #89
With the school closing, I will miss the tight relationships I have developed with the teachers. I have to admit I had a way different view of the staff when I first started. I thought they were going to be like my old teachers at my last school: rude, mean, and non-caring. I let them into my life and the next thing I know they turned out to be the best teachers I ever had. Roger, wow I’m going to miss having him put up with me and my anger. I’m going to miss Keith because he is the tightest teacher and always found a way to make me smile when I was down. He was a cool person to joke with. And Scott, I am so glad he did the Writing Exchange because before I thought that I didn’t have anything in common with the other students and I was always mad because I never could express my feelings. Now I notice that I have a lot of things in common with my peers. I see them in a different light and I get to express my feelings on paper.

Journal #90
When I leave, I will take with me a lot of good and bad memories, but all of which have helped me change into a more positive person. My best memory of all would have to be this last month or two. They have been great. I mean, everyone has just been doing great at getting along and just being cool to each other. I have really gained a lot of tools. One is tolerance. To be able to put up with things that don’t always go my way. My maturity level has really improved a lot over the last year. Overall, I would have to say this school had the greatest impact on me because of all the great people that are here.

Thank You Chico Rotary!

The Chico Rotary has been an incredible support to the Writing Exchange by bringing printing costs down, giving a $500 grant to help publish student work this year, and in establishing a site for the next Sueños de los Jóvenes(Dreams of the Youth) Fundraiser!
NCCS and SCCS Students and Staff Thank you