Where I’m From
I downright stole this idea! From here! Who borrowed it from here! Who provides a wicked template in case you want to try it yourself. Unfortunately, it is sort of late and I have therefore eschewed any attempt to decipher said template. Instead, I opted to write this as organically as I could because, I’ll be honest, I needed a little reminiscing and re-centering. I’m left thinking to myself that perhaps I should add more to this, but maybe it can be an ongoing sort of a thing. We’ll see, I suppose. For now, here is my poem based on the poem by George Ella Lyon (read it here)
Where I’m From.
I’m from the suburbs. From freshly mown lawns and gossiping neighbours and a lust for big cities.
I’m from homemade breakfasts and sneaking junk food and a very meaty childhood.
I’m from a divorce, awkward family gatherings, adoring grandparents. From packed suitcases every other Friday night. From a handful of old family friends who smell familiar whenever they arrive.
I’m from Costco and Chapters and the Real Canadian Superstore. I’m from McDonald’s and Subway. I’m from the corner store, the movie theatre, and the mall.
I come from a big happy kitchen that smells like stew and applesauce. I’m from a house full of animals and love.
I’m from apple picking in the fall, maple syruping in the winter, hiking in the spring, and cottages in the summer. I’m from roadtrips in the van, Shakespeare in the Park, from picnics and cake for breakfast on your birthday.
I’m from a childhood of orange slices at soccer games, the Wizard of Oz ballet recitals, piano practices, performing in plays. I’m from reading on my elbows in bed for hours and hours.
I’m from hating coffee, cartwheels on the lawn and summer camp. I’m from Sunday evening pork roasts and Saturday soft-boiled eggs.
I’m from Wales, New Zealand and Canada.
I’m from middle-school crushes and high school heartbreak. I’m from childish fights and grown-up bonding with friends.
I’m from French and English. I’m from talking in class and braiding other girls’ hair and getting in trouble. I’m from strange sexual harassment videos and hearing the news of 9/11 on my fifth grade teacher’s radio and stealing fake guns from boys and borrowing books from libraries.
I’m from utter sadness and complete joy. I’m from pain and comfort, I’m rich and poor. I’m from confusion, shock, optimism, hope. I’m from love.
And I love all of you. I’m so thankful for this space where I’m allowed to write my thoughts. I think I’ll do a lot more of that in the future, I am oh-so-inspired by this post by The Trephine, a blog I was shown only this evening by the wonderful Claudia and have since read many articles and become very inspired. I’m all for putting up pictures of my food, but I think I should speak more, and actually say something.