Lost

Once upon a time, I could tell you that I was the happiest child in the world.

Because everyone believed I was. So I did too.

But thinking back on it, I was very sad and lonely. It was 4th grade when everything began to change. I had a lot of friends, people I could talk to, only at school though. With no phone, hanging out with them, and school was my only form of communication with my friends.

During those times I was a social butterfly, outside all of the time, hanging with the kids around my block, making everyone’s day brighter with my smile.

I truly did enjoy making people smile, but it fell off when they didn’t make me smile anymore.

Fourth grade has now ended, and I’m pretending like I will survive leaving all of my friends and going to a completely new school, in a very different location.

The school was smaller, no full gym, just a box with doors and a few windows connected to it. It was more narrow smushed inbetween office buildings. And lastly, in was downtown, near Chinatown in Washington, DC.

It was far away from my home in Ivy City, so my mom had to take me to school by bus, in the mornings, and pick me up in the evenings.

After the first day, at this terrifyingly new place, I was quite content. It wasn’t bad, no, just new. And nothings wrong with that.

The staff seemed nice, the people seemed different. But because they were so different, and my insecurities started to blossom to life because of it.

I was black. My old school had only white teachers, but 99% of the student body were black.

I had people I could connect to, people who knew that I don’t come from riches, I struggle just like plenty of people in my neighborhood. But not all.

I would try to hide my poor ness at first. I would try to hide my blackness also.

Don’t speak too loud. That’s ghetto.

Don’t curse up a storm. That’s ghetto.

Don’t flaunt your beautiful 4C hair, I like the curly hair on the mixed kids’ better.

Stay stupid, you aren’t smart enough for this place.

I felt all of these feelings going to this new school. It was very white, the curriculum was top notch. I didn’t even really know what science was but when I go to this new school, I have to take science and four other classes, when I used to take two on the daily.

It was extremely overwhelming, trying to learn these new things, make friends, and overall, still be happy.

Yes, I made friends.

Yes, I got along with the staff well.

Yes, there were actually other black “ghetto” kids who were really bad.

But in the end, I didn’t really fit. And I knew that.

My new friends were mostly white.

Their parents picked them up from school, their parents packed them lunch and everyday, and so on.

When they would take about their schoolwork, or the homework I forgot to do, I just felt alone.

I would cry in the bathroom at night because I felt so stupid. So useless. I couldn’t even understand the simple concept of science. How do I have a D in English? It’s my language.

What was I doing wrong.

And though now I’m about to end 9th grade at the same school, I still haven’t figured this out, I just found the root of the problem.

And I’m going to solve it now.

By the beginning of 6th grade, I realized maybe it would be better for me to hang out with the other black kids. They were more popular, loud and proud, knowing all of the staff and alway in the dean suit.

They disrespected the teachers and did all this other disrespectful stuff that was done at my old school.

Thinking back on it now, it was terrible. But then, it was familiar, it was all I had to connect me back to my neighborhood.

I had basically lost all contact with my old friends, only going back to see them once after I was suspended from school.

I was trying to imitate the other bad black kids back then. And I got me suspended, I was loud and rude, didn’t want to take anybody’s crap.

I though it was funny I got suspended, something I could brag about to my old friends. And I did. And they loved it. But I was all superficial, because when I left to go back to school, I virtually never heard from them again.

6th grade I got into more drama, fighting with a girl who would later turn into a close friend, I wasn’t in the same class as my best friend, it was a hot mess.

I was a hot mess.

My grades were never good, C’s, D’s, and maybe a couple of B’s somewhere.

But the classes kept getting harder and harder. I was taking biology, physics, and chemistry at this point with other classes, and I was completely overwhelmed.

It was so hard for me, and I felt stupid.

I felt this was all the way up until this year.

I’m going to tell you my 9th grade experience. And I can skip a couple of years because the same thing happened each year.

I would try to reinvent myself. Become a good student, have good grade, not be in the dean suite all of the time, and be happy.

Only one of those things happened: I didn’t get in trouble anymore.

Sure it was fun not getting sent to the dean suite, but it changed nothing for me.

I still felt inadequate in every other category, my sister was diagnosed with depression and asthma, and my mom and I would be in the hospital all the time because of her.

8th grade, my mom lost her job and till this day she still hasn’t gotten another one. I was diagnosed with anger issues and depression, and I hated it at home.

Home is supposed to be a sanctuary, well it was supposed to be mine, a place away from the dreadful school that sucks all the life out of me. But it was just as bad.

They used to call me a mouse, because I loved cheese, and because I would always wake up with a smile on my face.

Ever since going to my new school, that has never happened.

By 9th grade, my school life was just as bad as my home life.

I was poorer, more upset, and the finish line just seemed so far away.

All I wished for was to be happy. But this year my dream was finally becoming closer.

I had three goals when I went into this year:

1. No C’s

2. Don’t get in trouble

3. Have fun

4. Be happy

To start things off, I was in class with my best friend. And many of my other close friends.

I was taking honors biology after taking biology for 3 years, and I liked the class so I started out with it. I was taking honors English language and honors English literature. I was taking French 2 and pre-clac A. And for my elective, I was taking Film&Art.

It was a busy schedule, especially because my elective started at 7:45 am.

But it was fine, I would wake up at 6 am, catch the 6:45 bus and make it to school 15 minutes before the doors open. So that means, in the rain, in the heat, in the snow, in the cold, I would have to wait outside the school with others for 15 minutes.

The year didn’t start out bad actually, it was the first year we had outside lunch, and back at home my sister had gotten a job so I could get some money from her.

I would eat school lunch if I didn’t have money, and if school lunch was bad, I wouldn’t each. But it’s okay, my friends always shared.

But I still felt inadequate, even though I had no C’s, only A’s and B’s. I wasn’t fully there yet.

Then basketball season started.

I had always wanted to play, since I was small, I just never had to necessities to play it.

This year it was $215, something I surely could not afford, it I played anyway after my coach begged me too.

I didn’t pay the fee, I didn’t even had basketball shoes, all I had was the sheer will of want to play this game.

I was going to play. And I did.

Practice was fun, my friends and others were on the team. Our team was relatively small, only 6 or 7 girls at first. Me included.

I wasn’t good at all. I had to learn the basics, dribbling, shooting, etc.

But I didn’t care, I fell in love the moment I stepped into the small church gym we had to practice in.

I fell in love with the ball in my hand, hearing the bounce, the way my fingers guided it.

I loved the competition.

But in the end, I wasn’t good.

Yes I made a lot of progress, I could shoot, I could kind of dribble, but when our first game came around, I could not do any of that.

But I played in the games no matter what, even if we lost them all.

Except one. It was a re-match between a team we lost to by 3 points. It was a nice win, felt really good to go home and say that we won after say we lost every time I came home.

But the thing that made me fall in love with the game, is that fact that I didn’t care that we lost. Yes, it hurt a little, but I just loved playing.

I loved the feeling of being on the court and forgetting everything else, I loved the feeling of the ball going into the net, even if I shot maybe one time every two games.

Yes I loved the sport but I wasn’t confident in it.

But that’s were I changed myself, to this day in quarantine, I still practice dribbling, watch all the basketball games, and dream of going to UConn.

Playing basketball was the first time I felt myself feel some sort of worth.

Even though it was my first year I high school, I had no type of passion. I had no feelings for any subject.

I was lost, I felt I had nothing when I would graduate.

Basketball was the first time I saw myself doing something.

I dream of playing for Geno, having enough money to buy good basketball shoes, being able to dribble with my head held high and fighting my way to the rim.

I have dreams of being better.

9th grade year, made me open my eyes to myself, I call people out when they say racist things about minorities, I don’t laugh when people disrespect others, and most importantly I don’t give up on myself.

Though it’s going to be a long journey for me through high school, I going to fight through it with my head held high trying to make my way to the rim of life.

I’m still young and have much more to go through, but I can positively say that I’m making my way there.

One day I am going to play for UConn, I’m going to have the best memories in Storrs, Connecticut.

I’m going to get drafted in the WNBA and hopefully play with the Mystics in my native city.

I’m going to be happy when I get older I can just feel it.

9th grade year make me open my eyes excited for the day to come. Something that hasn’t happened since I was 10 years old.

Yes, I was lost. But now, I’m just hopeful.

And maybe if you read this, you will be too.