Something That Is Held Inside

 

   I remember it like it was yesterday. He said he loved me and whispered “I’ll be back soon” with his soft smoker voice as he walked  out of the door. I was four and a half years old and I clearly didn’t know what love was or meant. It was just a word to me. I always wondered why my “dad” choose to walk out of my life as a toddler and not support my mom to meet our financial needs.

Growing up in a household with a single mother and nine siblings meant that I ate top ramen noodles everyday. But even then, I didn’t eat so much because I had to make sure my other siblings ate enough too. This made me realize that going to college was my only option. Despite the limited food in my household, my mom made sure we  never went a day with an empty stomach. She was the most  hardworking person I know and made sure her kids were happy. As a result of  that, I want to be her support system by succeeding in college so I can give back to her what she gave to me.

I realized that we are  family of struggles with many supporters. Out of all the supporters I have had, I know my mom was and still is my number one supporter. At the age 14, my mom dropped out of high school because she was pregnant with my older brother, Derrick. She had no high school diploma and as a result, she had a hard time finding a job. Even without a degree, she is still the most intelligent and wise women I know. She always encourages  me to be the best i can be so I can achieve better than  she did. The encouragement I get from people who don’t have higher education motivates me  to achieve my goals. As i get older and wiser I face many obstacles but I overcome them and never give up.

People have always asked me, “what do you want to be when you get older?” and I always respond with the same answer: Successful. I want to be successful because I want more than what my society thinks I can achieve. I want to be the opposite of what the stereotypes are about african american women in urban cities. High school dropouts,prostitution, drugs, and gang violence are the images of African Americans that I’ve seen In movies, tv shows, in the media and in newspapers. I know this isn’t true I am living proof. I am a confident, hardworking student with future goals. I can do it!

Dance is a part of my life and as a young african american girl who has determination about college. Showing my dedication to a dance team I have been in for two years now explains my story. Going to practice 4, 15 hours a week shows the passion I have because I could be doing something more “useful” with my time like working on college apps or doing homework.Hip-hop Dance is like writing. I am the pen, the dance floor is the paper and with every foot step I’m telling my story. The choreography doesn’t always come to me the first time, but I try harder without giving up. Hip-hop guides me to be a better performer that wants to learn. As I go to practice each day, I dance so I can release my stress and frustration. This art form is  something that excites me and I look forward to learning it each day.

People don't realize kid’s in low-income communities work harder than kids that’s rich. We don’t have the same resources as higher-class student may have but we work 10 times harder than they do because we know we have to get out the”hood” and be someone great.