Ms. Widman 11 & 12th Grade
The summer scent smacking the rocky sides of the ledge. Hot spicy burn of the hot Cheetos against my tongue, plummeting into the water to rinse the spice. The beam of the sun burning a tan into my skin. The soft embrace of my towel met with the warm rays. Enjoying the laughter and smiles all around. Planning the next ledge day. This is the life.
Though some expect a small German town to be boring and would rather live in a big city, I see it like a small but close friend group–yeah, hanging out with a big group with many people may sound exciting, but often it’s that close, trusted and simple circle that you call your comfort zone. The town for me is like that friend you don’t need a social battery for. Though so small, it gave me all I need to be myself.
“The good old days before you changed.” Is what the adults around me mostly think. These people who had been around for my entire lifetime watched as I turned into something they didn’t like. I don’t even have my own attention. There had been love from some but hate from others. You said please don’t eve change. Maybe people don’t like that I evolved with the direction of my mind. They want that same old sound they knew and watched. But you don’t like the way I am. I share it away and never let it show. Sometimes I don’t even like my own growth.
Starting on Kenmore and Foster. Smooth sidewalk with trees so tall you barely see the sky. Stones circling the grass I walk on trying not to fall and bust my head as Mama says. Black metal gates going down the block of each building and as I walk down I’m at Kenmore and Argyle. Tall silver gate with a door that’s always broken. Tete yelling from the brown wooded porch, “Don’t be running in and out!” And an ally. Long full of people using white substances that Tete usually says don’t give them eye contact. As I walk further down really further down I hit Kenmore and Buena Park. Big green swing me and my cousins take turns pushing. The train coming by every 10 minutes, frightening me every time. Me and my cousins saying what we would do if one day the train fell.
Beautiful homes but one low income home. My Tete’s house. Lots of stairs with lots of shoes covering them. I set mine aside. In the kitchen I smell Pollo Guisado, it immediately hits my nose. Loud noises and kids crying as I walk around toys, shoes, people everywhere. Home. Kenmore and Foster where I open my eyes from my deep sleep. But I now know all of Kenmore is my home.