Remember days like this in frailer years
when silence swallows up your tired soul,
for time will fall away with wistful tears
to fill an echovision water hole.

Deep ripples push his childhood toward the shore,
revealing smiles, laughter, hugs, and trust
in intermittent flashes that restore
the endless ways he killed your wanderlust.

Unburdened by responsibility
and ripe with wisdom, patience, and aplomb,
your inhibitions sank and you were free
to be his guide, his friend, his place of calm.

Sweet memories were anchored to forever
each time you sang of baby sharks together.

Heading into uncharted waters
without a sac that is weighing her body down.
The subconscious brings forth the auteurs—
no longer trapped in some town.
A narrow bumpy path lies in front
next to one that could have been the easy way.
While a stunt—
pushed her astray.
A knight sweeping her before the fall
catching the princess off guard.
Freezing so he gives her the shawl—
tightening the grip protecting her from debarred.
The sun rose in the east
as the butterflies increased.

Dreaming of my Romeo
as he appeared out of the blue.
Allowing a change in tempo
giving an experience that’s all so new.
In the midst of the fog
you swept my feet from under.
Often forgetting the monologue
due to our hearts starting the thunder.
Snapping away from the bygone
with my love alongside.
Creating a foundation we can build on:
both living for the ride.
Connecting through the depths of our eyes—
having the spirits harmonize.

What I love about myself in this chapter of my life is that I am finally learning how to let go. Let go of the past, not entirely but mostly, let go of things I cannot control, and let the pieces fall as they may. I have always cared too much and too deeply and tried too hard to make sure everyone was happy losing myself along the way. I will speak up and stop being polite because it’s the right thing to do. You need to know when it’s the right thing to do and its not the right thing to do if you are being devalued or disrespected! So, in this chapter of my life book, I am finally alive!

You had your grip around my throat
You hoped it would make me choke
Instead, I fought back to breathe
And now you are nothing more than a sleaze who no longer has control over me

It’s so easy to give up
Nowadays too many people count you out
Before you can even start to pursue your goals
But if there is anything I’ve learned
There are situations,
There are challenges,
There are distractions,
There are difficult times,
All of which will test you,
Teach you,
Mold you
Or prepare you for life’s biggest blessings
I remember back in 2018
I was partying with my family on Memorial Day
The next day I struggled to get up for work
On May 30th, 2018
I got a call while at work that my apartment was on fire
Everything was a blur
Taking a cab all the way to Brooklyn
Not even sure what it cost me that day
I was headed back to the remnants
Of what used to be
It was the last place my mom called home
As tears filled my eyes
I could smell the smoke
As I approached my door
I didn’t know exactly what I was in store for
The beautiful memories on the wall gone
Much of the pictures that we all treasured
Much of the priceless artifacts we retained from traveling
Much of the furniture
Much of my mom’s last purchases
Much of my family’s history
Lost in piles of ashes
Several days and months went by
Thankful for the love and support
Of family and close friends
I was able to stay positive
Trying to rebuild from scratch
‘Cause what else was there to do
Creating a go fundme page was suggested
But my pride wouldn’t let me do it
I worked tirelessly
Drowning my pain and sorrow
Feeling hopeless
Losing sight of my reality
Numbing my depressed mind
With gifts
Not trying to guilt trip
Possible scenarios
Left me realizing
I had to stop feeling sorry for myself
Instead, find hope
And persevere
I had to remember to make my mama proud
Though rebuilding takes time
I knew I had to start to make my remodeled apartment
My home again!

To kids that’s struggles in school,

I was always that kid that stood out, the one that was just different from the other kids. I was either too energetic or too down. My hair was usually not brushed or taken care of, and my clothes were usually too small. Watching as all my classmates would get good grades and understand the lessons being taught, it began to affect me emotionally. I sat there feeling defeated every test, every report card, every honor roll ceremony. I gave my all to my work and just could not get it. I felt dumb and hopeless, and I gave up by about 7th grade.

As I walked through adulthood, I realized I was good at working. I have great leadership skills, and I can pick up pretty much anything that I learn quickly. A completely different me, I thrived (survived one might say) in adulthood. For about 10 years, I was a single parent to children who began to walk through the same educational difficulties as me.

I was sitting in a room with my oldest daughter, 7 at the time, doing homework when she screamed, “I’m so stupid!” her face resembled a tomato on a rainy day. This was just the beginning of my journey to advocating for my kids. Shortly there after, my daughter received an IEP, Independent Educational Plan. Within one quarter, she did a 360 with her grades. She was comprehending everything!

My oldest daughter is now in 9th grade, an honor roll student since 3rd grade, in an engineering program that will allow her to get an Associates in Engineering and her high school diploma simultaneously. She is projected to be the first college graduate on both my side and her dad’s side.

Along this journey of advocacy and educational equality, I’ve had to be my own teacher. I had to learn to be the student in order to understand the journey my children were on. My family and I faced so many barriers on this journey, each one becoming a necessary lesson to learn with very valuable knowledge. Today, I am on my 2nd IEP journey with my youngest daughter, and it is extremely empowering.

I’m able to offer so much to my children that I didn’t have access to. I’m grateful I get to show them my successes while watching them grow into these beautiful and brave human beings. Have faith and give yourself grace, but most of all, don’t give up! You can change where you’re at as long as you believe in you!

Yours truly,
Fellow Generational Curses Breaker

The year was 1996. Even though the weather was beautiful and there was a certain peace in the air; my nerves were on overload. My heart began racing the minute I decided to try out for my high school Cross Country team.This is the real kicker; I have never ran in my life. I had just transferred to St. Vincent Pallotti High School from Laurel High School. I wanted to be part of a team. More than that I wanted to meet new friends. My dad ran cross country in High School and was good at it. Secretly, I also had a mission to follow in my dads footsteps. The voices in my head were playing devils advocate saying, ” You can’t do this.” ” You have never ran long distances; your going to pass out.” Every negative thought was going through my head as my feet hit the ground!My heart began racing faster as soon as we lined up to start our five mile run. I begin to run; trying to zone every negative thought out. As team members passed me I began to ask my self why am I putting myself through this embarrassment. At this point my stomach is cramping, my legs are sore and I feel like my body is going to limp any minute. Next, I begin to dry heave. Oh no, I hope no one saw that. At this point I just want to quit but then something comes over me. My internal high says, ” You got this.” I came to this challenging course to prove something. Running is more mental than physical! First, I am going to make this team. Next, I am going to win at least one medal for the season and last I am going to gain self confidence where doubting my own ability is not the first thing that comes to my mind. Even though I wanted to give up more than once that day I didn’t. I went on that season to win multiple ribbons, medals and even coaches award. This all came out of a teenage young lady that never ran more than a mile before making the team. Running has stayed part of my family and my life. I am excited to be a Girls on the Run coach for 3rd-5th graders for three years now. My coaching style is a lot like my coach was back in High School. I coach to build up the girls self esteem, to strengthen their endurance, to prepare them for a 5K and above all to teach them a team is like a family. Teams succeed together! I love to inspire my own daughter to believe in her self as well. She is on her second year as a cross country runner. These core beliefs of teamwork, confidence building, hard work ethics and unity would of never came if I gave up back on that sunny day in 1996.

The day my daughter overdosed
on unrestrained nortriptyline,
all thought dispersed like filmy ghosts
afraid of ICU machines.

Six days my haunted vigil stretched
beside her comatose abyss,
devoid of reason, will, or self–
a graveyard for gaunt manuscripts.

Amid the dark recovery
that disinterred cold skeletons,
stiff rhymes became my therapy
and she transformed– reborn a son.

Despite his newfound happiness
and zest for life I’d never seen,
the phantom novel grew abcessed
beneath a stack of poetry.

Our dual awakenings
sloughed off unyielding zombie cauls;
alive with nerve, encores begin–
and now my words earn peer applause.

To a girl,
Young, scared, hurt, and overcome by the feeling of wanting to crawl out of her skin. You have come so far. You have marched down the length of that dock, felt the dead, dry, prickly summer grass on the bottoms of your feet, and you’ve kept walking. You threw away that swimsuit, you know the one. The pale blue bikini with the tiny yellow and pink flowers. You’ve even gone back to that lake. It took you a couple tries, but you gathered the courage to place your picnic blanket under the big oak tree, remove your shoes, and swim in the beautiful deep blue Washington water once again.
I don’t blame you for staying away for as long as you did. Even just driving on the bridge that overlooks the water made you shiver. There were a lot of firsts that happened that day at the lake, and the weeks to follow. It was your first time going to the lake without an adult. It was your first time visiting the public swimming area of the lake. It was your first time jumping off the long wooden dock. It was your first time being touched by a man. It was your first time feeling the gaze of a man threaten you into silence. It was the first time you were so terrified that you couldn’t make even the tiniest weakest sound. It was the first time you felt like an uninvited guest in your own body.
Some disturbed people will tell you it was your fault. “A fourteen-year-old girl shouldn’t be wearing such a skimpy bathing suit,” they’ll say. That is an idea that has been passed down through the generations, and unfortunately, that idea is still widely communicated to young girls today. But you know now that the way you dress is never an invitation to somebody else. I wish someone would’ve told me that in the weeks that followed.
I am incredibly proud of the way you handled yourself in those following weeks. Looking back, it was upsetting that there wasn’t more the police could do. You gave them the location, the date and time, and they even had you go to the police station and meet with an artist who drew a portrait of your assaulter while you picked his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose out from a book of a thousand little drawings. It was like playing paper dolls. You still question if you got it right. You didn’t have a clear image of his whole face. Just his eyes. Those penetrative eyes that silently shouted at you to sit still, stay quiet, and tell no one what had just happened under the water. His eyes were the easiest feature to pick out of the book. To this day, I believe you could still pick them out of a crowd. Some images just never leave, even if the pain has started to fade.
Pushing through that darkness and letting that fear die out was one of the hardest things you’ve done. Even if your predator wasn’t brought to justice, you created a personal justice. Your body belongs to yourself again. You feel at home in your skin, and you dress however the hell you want. You wear scarves in your hair, bikini tops and little jean shorts, turtlenecks and long skirts, cropped shirts. You wear it all, and you don’t wear any of it to send a specific message. You just like how you look. And let me just say that that is a huge accomplishment in a society that raises women to hate how they look once they reach a certain age. Keep fighting that predetermined narrative.
Taking back your body was the first step. June 14th, 2023, you went back to that public swimming area. You wore your favorite swimsuit. You took your dog and your partner at the time for extra comfort and support. Getting back in the water was hard. That dock might always hold a painful memory, but you will never let it keep you from enjoying something that everyone has the right and privilege to do. Young girls shouldn’t have to fear something as innocent as a lake day or removing their swim coverups in a public swimming area. You have now marched back down the length of that dock, jumped into that water, and enjoyed the freedom of your body swimming in the magnificent deep blue Washington waters. Those eyes aren’t watching you anymore and those hands have let you go.