I was raised by a strong, smart, independent, beautiful, black, single, woman of a mother, who made it her life's mission to make sure I had everything I wanted and needed to succeed. So why do I harbor such a strong hatred for the woman who raised me? Because of substance abuse.
My mother was strong until she wasn't. She became addicted to drugs and an alcoholic, which caused her to behave in ways she would have never before her addiction. She stopped making sure the fridge had food, stopped remembering to pick me up from basketball practice, she stopped being a mother. She began bringing guys around and prioritized them and their needs over mine. Eventually, I left, which was no small task for a 16-year-old. I packed up what I could in the back seat of my 2008 Ford Fusion which was a gift from my mother. I drove an hour down the highway, with only a permit, to my grandmother's house. Due to the distance, I had to switch schools and leave my Aau basketball team in the town I left. What made the move so much harder was the fact that I couldn't bring my little brother and sister with me. Eventually, after my grandmother's hard fight for custody, they followed me, after enduring 5 more months of suffering. "she is your mother" and "She raised you" are what I am constantly told. I won't take away what my mother has given and done for me, but I am struggling to move past what she has done. "she brought me into this world, she was supposed to take care of me", is a thought I frequently find myself thinking. "Why" is another one.
I know I am not the only one who's been through what I've been through. I also know there are kids out there who can't just pack up and leave or homes where it was way worse than it was in mine. Which is why I want to help kids who went through what I went through. Kids who are thinking the thoughts that I thought. kids who are internally fighting with themselves to forgive and forget. Despite my family's struggles, I found my passion in art, which is what I am studying in my undergraduate. In my youth, I learned that art can act as an outlet and coping mechanism.
My goal is to start an art institution located in heavily populated areas containing minorities, within walking distance, for children to go to when they cannot bear to be at home. Eventually, as this institution grows I'd like to have it equipped with drivers that can pick children up, to have further outreach. Along with family counselors who can act as outlets for parents, because as my mother felt, sometimes it can simply get to be too much. As my institution develops, I hope it can be a positive site equipped to keep families together. And who knows, maybe it'll help a kid find their passion for art, as I've found mine.