Memories

At times I find myself catching sight of thoughts I had once forgotten to remember, some purposeful others just fled on their own with my mind only able to hold so many, I guess would be my best estimation of the process.

All sorts of memories that combine to create the woman I am today.

Riding my bike from my cousins’ house, my green 10 speed Schwinn and feeling a looming presence hovering, then peering out the corner of my eye to see a man trying to lure me to his car. I began to pedal faster and faster determined to make the remaining few blocks in record speed. I can’t even remember how I dismounted but my bike was left in the front yard, wheels probably still spinning as I ran into the house slamming the door behind me peering through the living room window

I remember Mr. Green, the white bus driver who slapped me across my face so hard when he dropped me off at home his handprint was still on my cheek and the school board that sat by and did nothing.

Memories of my mother reading to me at night before I went to bed, even at age 12, 7th grade, yup sure did, Fraggle Rock to be exact. Desperately wanting to be all grown up but yet remain a child as a major move to Oakland would forever transform me, forever.

I remember my mother disapproving of my tampon usage trying to reconcile her own thoughts, believing I could not be a virgin and use tampons. I explained to her just like the ad in the teen magazine had explained to me, “Tampax Slender Regular, so slim even a virgin could use them”, their words not mine. Besides who wanted to wear pads if they didn’t have to? When we are young we feel embarrassed or ashamed about our periods.  As we get older we realize its natural and we keep it moving, but in junior high, it wasn’t so easy.

I remember standing up leaving 5th period Art class in the 7th grade, heading to PE and this boy, I can’t even remember his name, coming over to me say “Here” handing me his jacket, “You got something all over the back of your pants,” We both knew exactly what it was, but we didn’t discuss it. I took the jacket and wrapped it around my waste and headed to the gym to try and clean up. That was the last year pads had the opportunity to embarrass me. The following year, Tampax saved my life. So yes we now know a virgin can use tampons.

So I was a virgin until I wasn’t, that one day when he called and his parents were gone and all his brothers and we kids that wanted to be grown, we were “in love” lol. Didn’t have the slightest clue and I had the rug burn on my back to prove it. Smh. That burn left a mark on my back for over a decade. Kids trying to adult. Not understanding the beauty of waiting but hoping to pass it on to the next generation.

Exposed to so much and understanding so little, and knowing everything while simultaneously knowing nothing.

Seeing a man come to church with fishnet stockings and shorts on. That would have never happened back home, but I was now in the Bay Area and things were very different. The Aids epidemic was in full swing and people I knew were dying and our hearts were breaking. I would hear it said it was punishment from God for being gay and I thought, soooo in your mind, God is only punishing gay people for sinning??? If he is handing out punishment, what about corruption in the government, especially in the streets of Oakland where I had seen police officers steal money, drugs and even the amps from suspects cars or what about adultery, rape or extortion or embezzlement or abuse, heck just being mean or countless other things that should be punished, that is if we are determining how the dishing out of punishment should go.

Young Black men were dropping like flies and it became our norm. Crack, guns and violence should never have been the norm. Some images you want to forget but even in the midst of it all there were good times and good people trying to survive in a world purposely designed for us to fail. Too young to understand the gravity and the cost of human life, for many in an attempt to escape poverty. When a single mother could not pay their rent, or a sibling is hungry and someone hands a young mind an opportunity to change that. To change the direction of life in a society purposely and systematically robbing a people of opportunity to live.

Fortunately, most of my memories are good.  Memories of being up in the block waiting for the gate to open, heart pounding out of my chest, cold air swirling around me as I hope the course hasn’t become to icy if I wasn’t one of the first few racers to hit it while it was still fluffy powder. My shelf full of trophies and my ski hat full of metals and pins from the opportunity to race again and again.

I can still feel the fringes of my costume brushing my legs from the dance recital and looking over at my cousin because we were the… well you know. Couldn’t tell us nothin’. My favorite was the red and white costume we wore to dance to that song “Applause” remember that one Kim? Tap, Jazz, Ballet, we were getting it in. In the words of Adele “But that was a million years ago.”

I remember the corny jokes my dad used to tell, he always thought he was so funny, but so did I. As a matter of fact, he still does, although he does not tell them quite as often. “What does death and going to the bathroom have in common” My dad asked me as I was sitting at the kitchen table at my grandparents’ house. “What” I eagerly awaited “When you gotta go, you gotta go” He laughed as he kissed me on the forehead, said “See ya Sweetheart” and headed out the door.