My Mama May Have Saved Me

I am in no way minimizing the role that God and my Pops have played in my life, but this past week has caused me to reflect a great deal. I have many family members--cousins, uncles, and aunts--who have been in and out of prison over the years, for various reasons. Some who still can't seem to stay away. Fortunately, there are some who seemed to have learned their lesson. All of whom I have a lot of love for.

I wondered this week, what were the elements that kept me from forging that same path in my life? I mean, the odds were stacked in that favor. I was born to a 17 year old mother. My father was a reforming street hoodlum during my first years of life. He, fortunately, got tied up in God, and God changed his life. I do think that that definitely was an element that "saved" me.

However, I went on Amazon.com this week and rediscovered a book authored by Dr. Seuss and Roy McKie, a book, called "My Book About Me." My earliest memories go all the way back to 2 & 3 years of age--memories of this book and my mother. She still complains that I made her read this to me EVERY day, without fail. However, her fault lies in the fact that she, too, was a major bookworm. While my father worked long days as a bricklayer. She stayed at home with me for the first 4 years of my life. From 17 - 21, she was a stay-at-home mother who loved to read.


For fun, we would take trips to the library, on foot, because she didn't drive until I was well into adulthood. I have incredibly fond memories of Samuels Public Library, in Front Royal, a relatively small, one-level structure. For me, it was an escape into magic. The smell of opening up a new book. The smooth, cool pages bursting with so much color (AH! THE COLORS!), the characters that my mother would create when reading these books to me. Books like "Liza Lou and the Yeller Belly Swamp," and "Bringing the Rain to Kapiti Plain". . . shout out to Levar Burton and "Reading Rainbow!"





Then there were books on tape and vinyl! "Clifford," "The Peanuts," "Garfield."

At home, Mama and I would enjoy watching PBS, because we didn't have any semblance of cable. The mother who had to drop out of high school to raise me was a NERD, and I loved it.

My love of books grew. As I grew too, I found authors like Walter Dean Myers, poets like Paul Laurence Dunbar and Countee Cullen, and essayists/dramatists/poets like Amiri Baraka.

It all connects back to "My Book About Me" and my Mama.

This past Friday, I helped my girlfriend, Sonal, who is a 2nd grade teacher, move out of her classroom for the summer. I ran across bins of books. Curious, I grabbed a couple, and when I opened one, that smell and those COLORS took me back to being at Samuels Public Library with my mother. My mother who is now working on her Master's degree in mental health counseling. To say I'm proud is an understatement.

I'm sad to say that I have not completed a book in years now. My addiction to the internet (Facebook, Twitter, Gmail) has killed my attention span. I bought a book a couple years ago, called "Slavery By Another Name"--a fantastic read, chocked full of knowledge goodies. I have been trying to finish this book since 2008, but my attention span wanes. No fault of the book.

I had the opportunity to sit in the presence of novelist/playwright, Pearl Cleage, last night in DC, and listen to her speak about her passion for writing. It reminded me of the love I once had for both reading books and writing poetry. So today I start a blog, hoping that I can muster the energy to get back to writing more, and continue to honor those seeds that my Mama planted in me. It was those seeds that very well may have saved me.