I've lived a hectic life in the life I've lived so far. It's been full of constant change, spurts of sever depression, and a eccentric family. The life lessons have flowed to me daily, as they do with anyone who is growing up and attempting to learn what they want out of life, how to live it, and what it's all about in the end.
This is something that happened last summer:
Three girls sat in the third row of an over heated truck. Three songs were playing, from three different pairs of headphones which were stuck inside three different sets of ears. I felt bored and on the edge of the sleep I had been waiting to come over me. Being one of the two girls closest to the window I could see evidence kids once sat in these seats. Smudged hearts and kitty cats were smeared across the windows from a time fog layered itself over them. Although these windows were barely transparent you could see a city. We were not used to the big buildings or spray painted walls. Everything was broken down and treated poorly. The town had a certain air to it, though. Like something that was meant to be kept clean. Something that was meant to be treated with respect. People hurried about their days in a busy fashion, rushing and smiling as they walked through the streets and down the sidewalks. Groups of teenagers were enjoying their Saturday by the water edge laughing in their awkwardness, trying to remain cool.
One lady walking down the sidewalk full of people struck me in a funny way. I paused my iPod and watched the lady for the few seconds the fast moving vehicle in which I was riding would allow me to. The lady had honey brown skin and hair done in a dramatic bun dangling over her head. Her eyes looked sweet under her round face, she directed this sweetness toward her son, and seemed to glow as she did so. The little boy blushed as she kissed him on the cheeks and fixed his hair. A tall man with equally honeyed skin tapped the lady on the shoulder, and the little boy rushed into the mans arms. Waving apologetically as the two boys turned around without a second glance, the women walked away very slow, the little boy and the man did as well only in the opposite direction, they seemed to have a spring in their steps and smiles on their faces that the lady was missing out on.
Then they were gone. We were onto a new group of people with different worries and smiles which meant fresh things. I enjoyed the way everyone's skin clashed as people went about their afternoons. Everyone seemed as if they didn't notice each other, and truthfully nobody really did. People cared about their agenda and their daily plans, that's it.
The streets were dirty. Garbage seemed to make piles around these peoples feet. A little girl picked up the Wal*Mart bag that was blowing across the sidewalk, and slammed it into the trash can looking back at her mother for approval. The mother didn't seem to notice, nobody did. The little girl half smiled to herself and went about the walk with her mother, thinking about how yucky this street was and maybe caring somewhat less about it than she had a minute ago.
I turned my iPod on once more and went back to my attempt at sleeping. I could feel every piece of carpet under my shoe and every chamber of or air making it hard to breathe while in this overheated truck. The sun was in full throw and I drifted off into a deep sleep thinking of the pretty looking lady and the naive little girl.
One lady walking down the sidewalk full of people struck me in a funny way. I paused my iPod and watched the lady for the few seconds the fast moving vehicle in which I was riding would allow me to. The lady had honey brown skin and hair done in a dramatic bun dangling over her head. Her eyes looked sweet under her round face, she directed this sweetness toward her son, and seemed to glow as she did so. The little boy blushed as she kissed him on the cheeks and fixed his hair. A tall man with equally honeyed skin tapped the lady on the shoulder, and the little boy rushed into the mans arms. Waving apologetically as the two boys turned around without a second glance, the women walked away very slow, the little boy and the man did as well only in the opposite direction, they seemed to have a spring in their steps and smiles on their faces that the lady was missing out on.
Then they were gone. We were onto a new group of people with different worries and smiles which meant fresh things. I enjoyed the way everyone's skin clashed as people went about their afternoons. Everyone seemed as if they didn't notice each other, and truthfully nobody really did. People cared about their agenda and their daily plans, that's it.
The streets were dirty. Garbage seemed to make piles around these peoples feet. A little girl picked up the Wal*Mart bag that was blowing across the sidewalk, and slammed it into the trash can looking back at her mother for approval. The mother didn't seem to notice, nobody did. The little girl half smiled to herself and went about the walk with her mother, thinking about how yucky this street was and maybe caring somewhat less about it than she had a minute ago.
I turned my iPod on once more and went back to my attempt at sleeping. I could feel every piece of carpet under my shoe and every chamber of or air making it hard to breathe while in this overheated truck. The sun was in full throw and I drifted off into a deep sleep thinking of the pretty looking lady and the naive little girl.
Despite all those minor life lessons, the one that has most helped shape me into who I am, and taught me the most about not only myself, but about the world, was growing up in poverty. I grew up knowing the definition of welfare, and being teased by other kids for shopping at thrift stores. My father worked as a mechanic slash car-painter, which made a 'not bad' salary, but my mother was a housewife, sometimes to sick to work, but doing it when she could. With three children, money was definitely a problem. We moved constantly, sometimes out of state, sometimes to the other side of town, it varied, but happened at least once a year.
Being poor gave me an insight I don't believe is attainable without first hand experiences. When I hear it claimed that only the unintelligent and lazy are poor, I know differently. When I heard the neighbor children arguing about whose family had the most expensive car, I couldn't help but shake my head at the materialism. When a friend of mine honestly didn't know what a recession was, my eyes bulged out of my head.
The life lesson this has taught me is to see people for who they are. To go beyond the surface society may paint, and judge peers, as well as everyday encounters with people, not by circumstantial things, but by who they are. I wouldn't change my past for a more comfortable one, I've learned major life lessons from it.
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