WELCOME BACK!!(NO I DIDN'T STEAL THAT FROM MASE)

well i officially moved. i'm in NB now and pretty happy. i'm not im school yet but by next monday i plan to be. and though i really didn't expect it, i miss irvington. we went back to irvington to finish cleaning up the apartment so my mom could get here security back. i was kind of upset that i couldn't say bye to my friends but in the end everything was ok. i tried my best to soak up everything, every memory that i could soak up, from irvington. i wish i had a digital camera or something,lol, but my fancy camera in my mind was good enough.

since i haven't gone to school, i've been staying inside which has given me this runny nose.lol. i've been reading this book, a really cool book, different than many of the others i've read b/c basically it wasn't written by a caucasion person or an african american person; it was written by a south asian (a name i find much more pleasant than indian b/c 1. the term indian is also sometimes used for native americans 2. not everyone in south asia is indian, there are many other countries down there. anyway, it was a great book and in some parts it really related to me, in fact sometimes i couldn't tell whether they were talking about african american people or south asians. in one part of the book they refered to theirselves as "people of color", which is usually what is used to decribe african americans, and they refered to their skin color as of being brown (which of course it is but it was weird thinking of it being refered to anyother people other than african americans).

the girl in the book was suffering from something that all us teenagers suffer from, the big question of "who am i?". but mostly she suffered something i think i suffer everyday (excuse the word suffer), she felt as if she wasn't american enough for the americans and not indian enough for the indians (she in fact was indian).which i feel most of the time, that im not black enough for the african americans and not american enough for the americans. anyway, since i was already emotional (my best friend [code for something.lol.] had just ended), i guess through half of the book i was crying through, thoguh it wasn't all that sad. my eyes just became dripping fausets of pour emotion in salty droplet form.

anyway, that made me think of what i had hoped to gain from thsi move. i really want to change. i want to find myself. but before i could do that i had to sort through what i already knew. i am african american, i am not african and i am not american but african american. i am the offspring of offsprings brought from africa but since that is not my culture, my culture is more the american culture than anything else, i am not african. i dont come from those who live(d) in africa, i come from those who marched for the rights i have now, i come from those who suffered all those years, i come from those who were lynched for something they could not help, i come from african americans. there is no flag for my group of people, for we are people lost, without a culture of our own, without a language of our own (both are things that were stolen from us. i am daughter of felica (no last names what so ever.lol.), though i have lived with her for fourteen years i only know bits and pieces of her life. i am daughter of benard, though i dont know anything about him other than his name, i cant even picture him in my mind for the the colors in the picture of him imprinted in my mind have all run out, till the photo was blink.

anyway, i want to lern more about where i come from. more about my people, more about my mother, and mabey i'll build up some guts to ask about my father (i think i'll need alot of support to do that). you know for the longest time, i had only saw one photo of my mom when she was younger. only a few months ago i got to see more, i got to see pictures of my great grandma (who died when i was 7) holding me in her hands, pictures of my grandfather (who died when my mom was 12) with my mother, pictures of my mom and her brother that she had admired so much when she was a little girl. i dont know, it just felt like a whole chapter of my mom's life was being revealed, and at that moment i realized how much of a stranger she was to me....anyway so i am going to be learning more about where i come from (i need a library card now more than ever.lol.). wish me luck :)