I'm From Tennessee

I'm From Tennessee

I am from boxes with old memories filled to the rim,

Dusty and unopened.

From  Crayola and chalk

colorful sidewalks and hopscotch.

I am from the small brick house at the end of the road.

I am from towering pine trees with words carved in.

From ripe tomatoes and cucumbers from Nancy's garden.

Willows and oaks and blowing on dandelions,

My dad tells me to stop but I keep on.

I am from late thanksgiving dinners.

From Arroz con Gandules and Flan slightly burned.

I'm from Coral and Emmanuel,

From don't touch my things and don't make a mess.

I am from running after school buses,

from Polly Pockets and Play Doh.

I am from Kathy and from Nancy and Tom.

From barbecues and pools and karaoke.

I am from always fashionably late or an hour early.

From us waking up too late for church, but

Praying every night.

I am from not going outside when it's dark,

from Tom and Jerry is too violent.

And still to young for a PG-13 movie.

Lectures of Stranger Danger heard every day.

Rules fill the household.

From the mountain biking with my dad

Fireworks near the lake.

Climbing rocks and motocross.

From teaching my brother all this.

 To lay back and enjoy the view.

Teaching him to hold on and keep climbing

And never stop.

I am from the wall that borders the staircase,

filled with pictures and memories.

Vacations, family portraits.

I am from the frames above the bookshelves,

School photos.

I am from the Rivera family tree.

I am on one branch.

I am only one leaf.

But I come from and share the same trunk.



Japan disaster.

I was in my office Friday afternoon. Everyone was well into his or her work for the huge showcase on Saturday morning. It was definitely a busy day in the office. Everyone sat typing or making phone calls, there wasn't even the usual banter in the halls you would normally hear. I--a very fastidious worker--was making sure everything was perfect with my presentation; I knew this presentation was crucial for me to get my promotion.

At 2:30 I went on my break hoping to facilitate my attempts to relax and decelerate my stress. I knew the perfect way to do this too, a walk in Sendai’s park, which always did me good on a tough day like this.  It was only two blocks down from my office and it was the most capacious and peaceful park I knew.

In about ten minutes I was there and just beginning my walk. My building where my office was, stood tall above the rest, it was still in view and waiting me to come back to work. I shuddered at the thought, I needed to relax, and so I turned my back on my work and walked down the stony path. In front of me there laid trees covered with beautiful flowers and leaves, skies of perfect azure, and a pond of crystal clear water. The weather seemed perfect, slightly too perfect, in the back of my mind something was telling me the perfectness wouldn’t last.

As I turned to see the perfect park some more I realized something, the pond. The pond that usually had a copious amount of little ducks swimming around peacefully was gone today.

I didn’t have much time to think about it though because just then, sudden shaking occurred right under me. I was knocked of balance and thrown onto the warm, sweet grass, which broke my fall. The shake wasn’t a small one, like that you could compare to something you’ve felt before, it was unreal, unless you were there. It was like you were riding a rodeo bull and it was tossing you around as hard as it could, the only difference was, that you couldn’t escape the nonstop, fitful shaking, it was as if you were tied to the back and couldn’t even succumb to falling.

Around me people were yelling, screaming, and crying for help. Sounds of destruction rang in my ears until it was the only thing audible. Children around me grappled their parents and cried, as parents fell to the ground holding them. I saw buildings fall, debris fall, and the big bridge near the park crash under and trap cars and people.

I felt so useless, lying on the grass safely while others run for their lives or live terrible fates.

Suddenly I heard a terrible snapping noise coming from behind me. As I turned to see where the noise was coming from, I was hit across my face by a heavy branch that came from a big tree. The branch had been extremely large in size and heavy also. There was a pang of pain going through my whole body and then I realized it wasn’t just my face that had been hit. Then, I noticed that my lips tasted like blood and when I looked down at the grass there was a pool of blood. Seeing my own blood made me dizzy or maybe it was because I got hit across my face, but as soon as I looked down everything darkened and all I heard was yells.

I woke up the next day in a hospital. There were many injured people in the hospital as well. Adept rescue teams brought in dozens a day. So many people were hurt, in the halls people cried for lost ones, and orphans were everywhere. On the first day I came the news was on the television in my room.

"Many are dead, injured, or missing,” Said the reporter. “These numbers are expected to rise. Japan is receiving helps from many countries. President Obama says he will help the most he can, he will deploy medics, food, and other, equipment to Japan. After an 8.9 magnitude earthquake and a 23 foot Tsunami hitting Japan, he Japanese people are fighting for survival and keeping hope close.”

 

The voice trailed off as I laid my head back and closed my eyes.

Pray for Japan

Mama's Girl: Book review

Book Review

Mama’s Girl

The Title of the Memoir and the Significance of Title

      The title of the memoir is Mama’s Girl I think the significance of the title is that through most of the book Veronica Chambers (the author) had a strained relationship with her mother, but she was the only one in her family that stayed with her, at least until the mom wanted her to move out because of the disrespect she had with her new step father. But even after she moved away she had called everyday and gave her daily reports of everything that was happening around her. With these daily calls their relationship became stronger and stronger, to a point where one night the mother came over to the place Veronica was staying at just because she wasn’t sleeping because of depression.

Who is the Story About?

       This story is about Veronica Chambers. She first starts the story as a child talking about the abuse she had to go through, then as a young women going through school after school, and eventually an adult having to support her own life.

How was this Story Organized?

     This story is organized in firs person, an older person looking back on their childhood.

What did the Memoirist come to Know About Themselves?

    Veronica Chambers learned that she couldn’t control the future and only the present. She learned that when she was young her mother didn’t appreciate her, but after many years of working hard she finally got what she always wanted and found out that all this time her mom had been proud of her. And how all this time her mom always ignored her and Veronica had to fight for her attention was because the mother thought she was independent and smart and didn’t need her. So she came to know that she did need her mom’s attention. She also came to know how strong she was, to have endured everything she did the past years.

My thoughts about the Book

    The way she wrote it was very descriptive. Every line she wrote was beautiful and poetic and every person she wrote about she showed a lot of detail in a way that showed who that person was, what type of role would he play in this story, and how it effected her life. She can take any normal subject like playing double-dutch and turn into a heartbreaking story.

Lines I Loved

“Here is what I wish she knew: There is a space between the two ropes where nothing is better then being a black girl. The helix encircles you and protects you and there you are strong. I wish she’d let me show her. I could teach her how it feels.”

     “The closer you get, the less you can see. It was true of my mother. It is also true of me.”

     “I felt like I was just many dots. From a distance they blended together to make a picture-complete and whole. But up close, the dots were all disconnected…”

      “My words are meaningless. My father watched as I begged for help. My words are powerless. The little I had is gone. What I have left are new words, so I will try again to write a new story.”

     “Was I dying? Was she dying? Then my mother began to rock me, rock me like I wanted her to when I was seven and terrified of my father, when I was ten and afraid of living in a strange new apartment building, like I was fourteen and walking out of her front door.”

     “All my life, I hoped to meet someone upon whom I could unload everything. The best friend who would take my side completely. The boyfriend who would shelter and protect me. It never occurred to me that my mother was the person I wished for.”

    “I know my brother was out swimming. I know he can barely swim. I know the day is darkening on him. I know that he is sometimes tugged under because he can disappear for weeks on end. I know that he is resigned to falling. I know that he thinks he’ll survive as a ghetto merman but he is falling in. I know that oxygen is finite. I know that he may come up this time or next, but there may be a time when he does not come up at all.”