Transcript

“I Am From...”

I am from chunky mashed potatoes,
A long line of strong women named Margaret,
Days of using care bears as a moral compass,
Playing titanic on my water bed,
And standing in line for the newest beanie babies at 5 a.m.

I am from “someday you’ll understand”,
Running away from home to a snow fort in the front yard with a bag of fruit roll ups and a cup of apple juice
Wishing she would divorce him already. And when she finally did, understanding why she didn’t
I am from placements spent trying to protect my little sister, breaking down with the realization that I couldn’t
Guardian ad litems, specialists, and successful scapegoats for abuse like parental alienation, Munchhausen’s, and father’s rights.

I am from a mom trying so hard to get someone to listen, and her desperate pleas only playing like putty in their hands
I came from so many people with so much power who knew so little
Reading three books a day, adopting other’s stories when my own was too painful.

I am from the closet that housed too many skeletons,
Therapists, I statements, renewal centers and pie communication
I am from a daddy who was hospitalized for wanting to kill me as an infant, later being hospitalized for wanting to kill myself at thirteen. What a beautiful family tradition.
Crying, panic attacks, pills, self-injury, apologies and the realization my family defined broken home.

I am from being snatched without warning wearing Christmas socks and flip-flops,
Put in a group home, then becoming a foster kid and second-class citizen.
Only real family gets real dishes, as they set down the paper plate in front of me.
Regular late night talks with my foster sister, and we became each other’s family,
I am a ward of the state, returned home at seventeen,
Night classes three days a week on top of high school and a job to graduate with my peers.

I am from a scholarship and a whim leading me to college, figuring out what it feels like to be able to focus on school for the first time ever, and liking it.
I am from the Wisconsin Youth Advisory Council, motivated to change the foster care system, shocked that my experiences and opinions are valid and critical to influential grown ups.
It’s not perfect, my room is never clean, I skip classes sometimes, I’m always poor, I don’t pay as much attention to my pug as I should, I make bad choices with men. They are my choices, though, and I have never been given that before.

I am from another scholarship, an internship, and being so happy I can’t believe I came so close to missing all of this.