Through My Eyes

I threatened to burn down our house. I changed the price on a pair of shoes in Kmart and got caught. I was playing tug-a-war with the boys in the neighborhood one hot summer afternoon and I put all the boys on one side against me. I thought I would have more strength and beat them if I put the rope in my mouth, the boys tried to talk me out of it, but I insisted that I would beat them. Once they started pulling the rope, they pulled my two front teeth out. I threw an ink pen at my sister, hitting her right below the opening of her eye, because she kept pushing me and accusing me of eating her piece of watermelon when I had not. The last whipping I remember was for telling mom I was going to the neighborhood store, but instead I walked down town and was gone for several hours. The whole family was in an uproar and out looking for my niece and me.

I have four sisters, one brother, two half sisters and two half brothers, they all looked after me, and nobody better not mess with me. "Cause it would be going on," all I had to do was say the word. Shod, a beat down was nothing for them, but it’s my good pleasure to do, to who ever, when ever, if I said the word.

Being tough or considered bad was the atmosphere in our home, an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, and fighting fire with fire was the mannerism of our spirits. Feeling bad about want you said or did, yeah right, you’ll never know it. In fact, my parents quarreled and brawled all the time, it seemed to not bother me too much, but when it became extreme I never knew what to make of it.

A typical weekend in our home consisted of our immediate family, and my oldest half brother and his wife would come over. There would be fish frying, drinking, loud talking and cursing. "Girl go fix me a drink", I was obedient, fixing drinks and fetching beers, oftentimes I would fix myself one on the side. Returning to my room to play with my dolls and listen to music. The next thing I knew there would be commotion, and confrontation in the midst of our home. This lifestyle was just our way of life, I couldn’t change it, it became apart of who I thought I was.

I am not trying to give or leave the impression only bad things occurred in our home. Sometimes we did enjoy one another. On Holidays like, Thanksgiving, Christmas, or maybe birthdays we would set around the table laughing and talking about the crazy things that we quarreled and brawled about. Yet and still when you are going through these incidents it truly wasn’t funny. My parents took us on many camping trips, outings, and vacations. However the overwhelming fact remained the unstable behavior among my parents did not cease, while our sibling rivalries grew worse.

In addition to the topsy-turvy events which took place in our home I recall during elementary school I struggled in my classes, learning just came hard. I was put in a special reading class to help me read at the correct level. I would come home from school really excited about learning, wanting my parents to help me read the books I needed for school. As I set at the dining room table on the verge of crying, wanting so badly for someone to show interest in my lesson, but they were always preoccupied. No one asked or even seemed to be interested in helping me. I just knew I had better pass to the next grade level; "so giving up was not an option." This preoccupied state of mind, only concerned about one’s self was the heart breaking reality of our home. I was like the little baby lamb that hung around; everyone was waiting on to grow up.