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- Author Interviews
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- Educator of the Year
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- Travel & Culture
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- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
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- What Matters
I Am From
I am from sitting on a big wooden bench, watching my father own the courtroom. Hearing his powerful voice, that scares me to death; sway the jury to lean on his side.
I am from hours of stardom, using my radiator as the stage. Blasting my song until I can’t hear the outside world. Singing louder and louder until the only voice I hear is my sister screaming, “STOP! It’s so annoying! You’re going to get us in trouble!”
I am from venting my true, deepest feelings into the notebook that is kissed by confidentiality, the book that is there when everybody else is too busy to pay attention.
I am from bending the mermaid that use to be my best friend. Hours spent talking to the plastic toy; the toy that accompanied me on my first and final visit to the World Trade Center.
I am from golf clubs in Sheep’s Meadow as my father corrects my hand set-up. Running around with sticky fingers covered in Toasted Almond ice cream.
I am from piling the contents of my dress-up box onto the floor of my closet and spending nights lying awake counting sheep. Feeling the itchiness of mesh and sequins underneath my sweating body.
I am from holding my mother’s hand as we walk down Atlantic beach, the sun gleaming onto my toddler skin and brightening the golden locks that I once had.
I am from anger and tears, wondering the whereabouts of the little yellow bear that has never left my side. The bear that my mother said was my security.
I am from Barbie makeovers and “Hey! That one was mine!” The haircuts and tattoos that were un-reversible. The sound of my mothers warning, “Their hair doesn’t grow back you know.”
I am from connecting my feet together in the bathtub with socks and hair-ties, pretending that I lived in an underwater kingdom. Wailing my sock tail up and down until the floor of the bathroom was completely underwater.
I am from days of murder, lies, and mystery on the soap opera that kidnapped my social life. With thousands of, “She did this!” and “He killed her!” Hours of listening to “She got with him!” and “He stole her baby!”
I am from summer after summer, coming back to see each other, holding on to bonds that never break. The place we live together, where we make friends forever, home away from home.
I am from leaving notes on my window reading, “Peter, take me to Neverland.” and thinking that I would be shortly woken buy a small glowing fairy. Flying over clouds and through stars until we reached the land of eternal childhood.
I am from “Jack, I’m flying!” while clinging to a railing at the bow of the Titanic, with Leonardo DiCaprio’s arms wrapped around me. Knowing every little thing about that ship, regardless of the fact that is it located 20,000 feet under water.
I am from endless conversations about bras, tampons, and boys in the bunk we call home. Drinking sodas and eating candy that was forbidden. Just talking, and talking, and talking about things that no one else knew besides the 16 of us.