I Am From...

I am from dreaming of roller-skating and a basketball hoop in a driveway I would never have.

I am from overdone fish sticks, crinkly-cut Ore-Ida French fries, and frozen mixed vegetables from a single mom too tired to make anything else...and loving every bite because I loved her.

I am from never feeling like I quite fit in to the dozen schools I attended before I was twelve; I am from latchkeys that let me into houses I could never call home. 

I am from a Commodore 64 that always sat on the C:\ prompt, eventually playing the embarrassingly inferior Space Crunchers while I desperately pined for Space Invaders, Donkey Kong, Dig Dug, and Ms. Pac Man.

I am from no father but a mother worth a million men or more.

I am from unity through diversity; I am from having the courage of your convictions and suffering the splintery consequences of riding the fence.

 

I am from racing horses bareback, speeding into sunsets looking for a love that would define or destroy me, but settling for nothing less.

I am from Wildcats, Salukis, Volunteers, Panthers, Redhawks and Raiders.  I am from never knowing the score but never once missing the games on Friday nights.

I am from “getting ready”; spending hours under the pretense of trying to look cute for cruising around parking lots, up to no good on a Saturday evening with my best friends.

I am from tingly hand-holding in dark theatres, a mouthful of cold air sparking in my teeth while kissing late on a Saturday night in a wintry cold parking lot, and the tickle of butterflies in the tummy for the love of a man I have searched for almost half of my life.

I am from being a jack of all trades, but a master of only one that I will never name.

I am from waiting—maybe not for marriage, but for when it would matter.

I am from university life:  diversity, multicultural education, identity, introspection, self-reflection, and social action.

I am from open minds, open hearts, open arms, and open mouths.

I am from nickel pitcher Tuesdays and hating cigarettes and the way they prey upon the vices of men, but open to the hypocrisy of the occasional social smoke because, damn, are they ever delicious.

I am from House Party, Heathers, Pretty in Pink, Dirty Dancing, Say Anything, Footloose, The Breakfast Club, Chasing Amy, and Reality Bites—all fragments of a fractured reflection of who I thought I was or might one day be. 

I am from being okay with being the not so small girl with the big heart; I am from never, ever being willing to return to the eating disorders that (for a short time) made me thin and "beautiful" on the outside, but sick and ugly on the inside. 

I am from a bowl of cereal in my jammies on the living room floor at dawn on a Saturday morning spent with my best friends  Tom & Jerry,  Smurfette, Strawberry Shortcake, Daffy Duck, and Foghorn Leghorn (turned way down low so my mom could sleep).

I am from worshipping my precious children as the golden apples that they are and the absolute joy in knowing that, without hesitation, I would happily lay my life down for their happiness.

I am from Philip Roth, William Faulkner, Vladimir Nabokov, Eudora Welty, Chuck Palahniuk, and John Irving.  Though I am from the Canterbury Tales and Piers Plowman, I am also from pride in my fervor for all things Stephen King.

I am from the belief that book snobs suck.  Movie and music snobs, too.  Life it too short not to love every moment you can.

I am from loving Pac and Biggie in equal measure…from being unashamed (and willing to lose a bit of credibility) to share my penchant for Digital Underground, Biz Markie, Hammer, and Ice (Cube, T, and Vanilla).

I am from Carole, Janis, Alanis, Tori, Fiona and Cheryl—chicks who flipped their fingers in the faces of those that cut them and cauterized their pain through the community of sisterhood and the power of the chords.

I am from Dylan and Young and Buckley and Cohen and Cobain and Vedder—I am from music being my family and these men being my fathers—supportive ones at that.  At least they were always there. 

I am from racing toward being a stupid teenage statistic at 88 miles an hour in an ‘88 Grand Prix down country roads with the windows down and my hair slicing into my eyes screaming music from Morrissey to Megadeth and never feeling more alive for the rest of my entire life than the way I did in those stolen seconds.

I am from carpe diem, because YOLO is for the lost and the lazy.  I am from loving Mr. Keating, crying “Oh Captain, my Captain”, and sucking the marrow from the bones of life.

I am from Freddy and Jason and Michael, the crappier and slashier the flick, the better…though I humbly bow at the altars of Fellini, Welles, Waters, Wright, Hughes, Scorsese, Smith, and the Coen brothers.

I am from Nickelodeon, The History Channel, VH1, CNN, BRAVO, and TLC.  I am from pre-VHS, but I am unafraid of DVR.

I am from The Giving Tree and the philosophy of Warm Fuzzies.  Take whatever you need from me; it is all I have to give.

 

I am from the religion of recognition; I am from the prescience that there may be nothing waiting on the other side...and from knowing that our only obligation in this life is to making the breaths that we take and the moments that we make matter more than anything that ever came before...

 

I am from a passion for educating and facilitating, for personal development and for making lifelong learning connections.  I am from never lying to you and always standing beside you.

I am from helping you to grow up, to grow into yourselves, to love life, and to leading the way by living it fully forever.