“The heat kills the high,” my mom replied, not looking at me.
“What high?”
“Go up stairs and ask that drug addict.” I froze. I thought he stopped years ago.
I walked up the narrow stairs to my father’s room. As I stood in front of his bedroom door, it seemed larger: tall and white, almost expanding, a wall between the truth and myself. The doorknob was cold and as I slowly turned it, it stopped. It was locked. In that moment, I knew my father was using crystal meth again.
Things weren’t always like this. I remember the pumpkin-lit Halloweens, the loud, family Christmases, and the quiet Wedding Anniversaries spent in front of the TV all through preschool to 4th grade. For a time, my life was similar to the perfect dollhouse family I played with as child, minus the big house and family dog.
In 5th grade, everything changed. The peaceful family seen in our home videos fell apart; one situation lead to another, and eventually to my father’s on and off drug habit. When I think back on my family’s sudden down turn, I wonder how I managed not to sink with it.
As I skip through the pages of my 5th grade journal, what stands out are not my constant rants, but rather the rays of hope I found in school. I realize I loved school. It was my escape from home; at school, my world could be much bigger than my problematic family in our tiny apartment. Mrs. Stone, my 5th grade teacher, showed me a world of possibilities that did not exist at home. I discovered my passion for art and a respect for different cultures. She taught me that the act of gaining knowledge is what would help guide me to whatever opportunity I wanted.
From that point on, I stopped looking at education as tool used to separate the “smart” from the “dumb”. Instead, education meant opportunity, change, and success: the key to limitless options. I never let scores and grades influence my passion for learning. I take advantage of every opportunity to expand my world and enrich my experience. It has enabled me to become the young African-American woman I am today; I stand at the verge of becoming the first member of my family to go to college. I dream about a potential career as an ethnic studies and art teacher, where I can become a Mrs. Stone for other young students.
My father has made his decisions, and in doing so, he set his own limits; He has locked his own door, but not mine. As much as I love my family, their choices do not determine what I can achieve. Through hard work towards my passion, the world is at my fingertips. As an educator, I will always stress education as a key to a world beyond hopelessness. I will teach my students that access to knowledge will enable them to transcend the situations they are born into, and give them the power to control who they become.
