I come from where violence is the answer to everything.
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by Elsa Ramirez
It’s sixth period. I’m sitting, thinking about life, waiting for the 15 minutes of silent reading to finally end.
“All right, everyone take out paper and something to write with, we’re going to do some simple warm up exercises,” Mr. Danziger says.
I dig into my bag, grab a sheet of paper and a pencil.
“I want you guys to write about where you come from,” he says.
“You know what?” I tell myself, “I’ll just do this later.”
Fact is, I know exactly where I come from, yet nothing comes to mind.
When I arrive home, I turn on my computer. I sit, think. Nothing happens. This is new. I’ve rarely had trouble writing.
I start to think about the people who live in my neighborhood.
Finally, I begin to write. About my lifestyle. About the lives of people around me. About what I see and would rather not see.
The next day I enter Mr. Danziger’s class, hand him my paper, sit.
It’s silent reading again. And I’m daydreaming again.
But then I hear myself say, “You know, maybe I’ll read out loud this time.”
I do.
But I’m interrupted.
“Elsa, can you meet me out in the hallway for a second?” Mr. Danziger asks.
“Oh f- ! What did I do this time?” I think.
I walk into the hallway; my heart is pounding. I’m scared.
“Elsa,” he says, “your I Come From piece is incredible writing.”
I am shocked. I honestly thought it wasn’t all that good.
“Oh, wow, thank you!”
“I was wondering if we can publish it in this year’s POPS anthology?”
“Of course you can.”
“Great. I’ll need you to sign the release papers.”
“Okay.”
I return to class feeling proud of myself. I hadn’t expected that.
After that, I started attending POPS the Club meetings on a regular basis.
As I continue to attend I am more and more inspired to write.
And to become a better writer.
◊♦◊
This is my “I Come From” piece.
I Come from Where Violence is the Answer to Everything
I come from a neighborhood where violence is the answer to everything
I come from where being a project kid is a lifestyle
I come from where girls get pregnant and their baby daddys get locked up in jail
I come from a ‘hood where no one wants to see you do better
I come from where loyalty is questioned because the people who were so- called friends backstab you
I come from where gunshots become music to one’s ears
I come from parents who don’t care what I do because they are tired from chasing my sisters out in the streets
I come from not eating if the food stamps don’t arrive
I come from a place where the struggle is real
I come from being the first one in my family who will go to college
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