As a child
As a kid I grew up in low income housing. I remember how tough it was and the sadness I felt day to day; the confusion and constant starring into space with thoughts of “will life always be like this?” I would wake up to my white cement block room with one small window. I remember my dad wanted me to have a table to do homework on pretty bad and brought home a hospital bedside table. You know, the old ones that flipped up and you could store stuff inside of. I was a little excited and confused at the same time. The excitement came with being so young cause it was new and I had something to put things in and draw on. The confusion was from thinking my dad had to get a hospital table that was being thrown away. Mom would hang dry our clothes. Thinking back on that, I really enjoyed doing laundry and dishes with my mom. She taught me a lot about taking care of myself and how to do day to day things that life requires of us. She would open the windows on a nice, windy day. I don’t remember having cable so we played outside a lot. Growing up in low income housing could be a scary place sometimes. The older kids weren’t very forgiving. Moms would leave their 6-7 year old girls to watch over their 3-4 year old kids. We didn’t think much of it then. We would just find each other and climb trees or hide in the graveyard for fun. We’d walk up and down the one dirt road that split up the houses on either side. We would get on our bikes and ride for hours. Sometimes I wish I were there in those simpler times. I can remember the sun and the wind on my face as we rode our bikes up and down the streets of our little town.