I Remember Grandma Linda

A person who is very dear to me was my Grandma. She means a lot because she cared for me and believed in me even when no one else wanted to. She gave me strength, hope, comfort and love. I miss her a lot. She taught me things no one else could. She encouraged me even when I did not want to take this gift, but it was worth it. She always liked to sing, even though back then I thought it was annoying. Now, I miss her melodious voice. Grandma Linda died when I was about ten or eleven. Her passing left pain in the hearts of many. Mostly mine.

(Abigail Taylor, 9th Grade)

Note: The image above is not of the author's actual grandmother

I Remember Tiffany

I remember being in Decatur, Georgia when I got the phone call. My oldest cousin, Tiffany, had been shot and killed by her so-called boyfriend. She was packing her bags ready to leave. She finally came to her senses and realized that an abusive relationship was not what she wanted. He tried to stop her. This time she fought back. By the power of God, she made it out of the house. She gave a quick glance back. She had forgotten her keys. When she opened the door bang, bang, bang. She fell to her knees My cousin was two months pregnant with their child. Three days later, he did the unthinkable: shot himself before my uncles and dad got to him.

I remember crying my eyes out for days upon days. I remember feeling guilty and was very depressed. I remember everything going blank.

As precious as could be, my cousin Tiffany meant the world to me. Gone too soon is an understatement. She hadn't even started a life of her own. It's such a shame that she didn't get to take that final step across the graduation stage. She was the daughter of a soldier, the daughter of a cop. A madman took her life for no apparent reason. Rest in peace to Tiffany who may be gone but is not forgotten.

(Kenyatta Warren, 9th Grade)

Meeting My Birth Mother

I remember when I was twelve years old, and my mother told me that we had to go to court. At the time, I did not really think much of it. I thought she had to go to court for something she had done. When the next day came, we went to court and were sitting in there for hours when, eventually, a lady walked in. I noticed that I looked just like her. My mama looked at me and told me that the lady who looked like me was my birth mother. I always knew that the woman who raised me was not my birth mother. I just never knew who my birth mother was. The judge gave my birth mother visitation rights. Also, I met my little brother, Austin, who is now twelve; my two big brothers, Brandon and Marquette (Brandon is now in jail, and Marquette recently died) as well as my sister Jarvetta. When I first met my birth mother, I was hurt because I wondered how she let herself lose me and not my brothers and sister. Very shortly after we met, my birth mother died in her sleep. No one knows how. When she did, I was still hurt and did not go to the funeral. I did go to see her body. Now, I have forgiven her. I am more happy and love her more and even care about her. Sometimes I feel like a piece of my heart has been ripped way, but I know that one day we will meet again and share laughter and tears. Each day, I wish she was here. I do not hold her past against her, because I know she loved me. Donna Lynn Lewis will forever be missed. (Ashley Williams, 11th grade)

Note: Above image is not of the author's birth mother. Photo credit belongs to Guardian UK.com and was featured in a story on adoption.

Grandma is My Heart

My grandma on my mama's side is important to me. She is just so special, loveable, happy and kind. I can go to her for anything or if I want to talk about something. She is the reason why I get up and go to school and behave myself. If it weren't for her or my mama, I wouldn't be in school.

My grandma is sixty-six, and she still looks good. Everybody thinks she is my mama and that my mama is my auntie. I think this is funny.

I also admire my grandma because she is smart, rich and has a lot of money. She is a health administrator. I want to follow in her footsteps working in the health field.

My grandma is very important to me-- one-- simply because she is grandma and I love her. Two, she is always there for me whether I'm wrong or right. She plays an important role in my life, and I don't know what I would do if something happened to her. My grandma and mama are the reason why I do everything. My grandma is my heart.

(Antoinette Sanders, 11th grade)

A Poem for My Grandmother

I remember the mother, the mother of my mother, the one who took care of her and her brother, late night cries, lonely eyes, You baking biscuits. Oh, how I miss it. We had so many good times from '94 to '09. I can't believe that you had to die. Every morning waking up knowing you were there. We should never have taken each other for granted. Instead, we should have cherished the seeds that we planted. We should have cried a lot less and laughed a little more. Take very opportunity, not closing one door. I hate so many words were left unsaid and so many chapters of our Book of Life unread. (M. Cannon, 11th Grade) Image: "In Grandma's Hands" Keith Mallett

They Reminisce Over You

Though many may be too young to have enjoyed listening to Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth's They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.) it is a classic tune connected to the theme of our blog.

Inspiration

This blog was inspired by the sudden death of the former director of our program, Dr. Shirley Arnold, a kind and compassionate woman dedicated to opening the doors of higher education to young people. Her passing inspired me to create a unit for students devoted to the exploration of legacies, lasting impressions and the different ways that people pay homage.

Over the winter and up to now, we have read about, discussed and written about a number of religious and secular practices—from Dia de los Muertos, the construction of altars (ofrendas) as well as the building of monuments such as the Vietnam War Memorial and the footprints in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood and more. We have also explored the ways that experiences of the past create much of the structure of the lives we are living today.

I'd planned for the discussions to culminate in the building of an altar near Dr. Arnold’s former office; in lieu of that we have constructed this blog. Although the altar did not come to fruition, the main idea here (probably the most important one) is that new life springs from those things that have passed on.

(Jené Watson)