Black&White

The two most important jobs or roles in this world are that of a mother and of a father. How more important could teaching and protecting another life until their able to do so on their own? There is nothing that matters more than a human beings ability to thrive and carry out their divine purpose.

As a child I had somewhat of a “different” type of experience than most. My earliest memory of “mom” is at the age of 4 and her name was Mildred Spiro, and her husband who never said more than 10 words to me the entire time I knew him, his name was Harold Spiro and I called him dad. Mildred was African& Cherokee Indian and her husband she introduced as Jewish. Both were in the late fifties when I came to be in their guardianship and at the time they had only one other child whom they adopted from a family friend who couldn’t care for the child and her name was Charday. Mildred sat on the board of education and Harold worked at sharp army depot, the house was big enough, food was always provided, and hygiene was never neglected. I remember most of all from this particular period of my life that I loved school dearly, and my imagination was the most incredible its ever been. Without turning this into an autobiography explaining endless stories of how I ended up to be the way I am today, I am going to illustrate briefly, a picture that appears to be the beginning of a dark portal yet if you slightly turn your head and train your eye to look past the noisy atmosphere…. There in the deep corner is a small glimmer of yellow or white light. This metaphor will help you to walk away without sadness or anxiety concerning the world in which we live in.

Despite other complaints of foster homes during the 1990’s , I can say I was blessed to have only visited a few and for the most part weren’t that bad. Mildred was the first placement I came to at four and Kari and Debbie I lived with in the same town but separate homes at the age of 13, the last attempt at a connection with a family would be Chelsea at age 15. Mildred was the most influential both in a negative and positive way, aside from the harshness in her parenting style I believe her intentions were good they were just carryout wrong. While Mildred never ceased to provide the basic needs of a child, she failed to the basic needs of a human as a species, which was love and affection. I’ve given much consideration to the time period and her age and life experience before I made that comment, however it wasn’t race that separated us, just as well as it wasn’t bloodline either, honestly it was lack of love and equality that made me runaway at 11. Fear oof the unknown kept me from going back. By the time I had reached 11 I was at the top of my class in almost everything. I won first place in many writing contest as well. I wasn’t your typical 90’s kid, I was quiet, I loved to read books, I never saw t.v. accept twice a day for jeporday and wheel of fortune, and that was after I finished my chores and homework. Every night I was in bed by eight, and I experienced candy only after church on Sunday’s and sour twist was the only kind id ever known until I ranaway at age 11. These “circumstances” are not what lead me to the troubles I had in the near future, however the harsh words repeated before and after every missed visit from “debra”, and the mommy dearest style discipline assisted them to make it harder for me to push through them. I’m not really sure what I would’ve become if I would have chosen to walk home instead of onward that day after school,I if I let my imagination lead the thoughts are heavy so I’ll let reality follow behind truth which is I wouldn’t know what felt like if I had not met her, I understood the consequences of being filthy from her instruction, and respected all elder no matter the argument. Humility was learned when I watched other families interact around me, becoming humble took a little longer as soon as I learned to set aside all the anger and pride.

I met Debra my biological mother out of sheer luck, someone sent her a kite in prison saying they saw my older sister Wanda on the prison yard which was a mistake and it turned out to be me. Apparently we look a lot alike. I remember I had waited for that day my whole life. Til this day I cant tell you exactly what I was waiting for but I expected that the day I met my mother my heart may be able to heal life would have meaning once more. After my mom left that day I do believe I had waited what felt like a lifetime to be spoofed. She unfortunately proved Mildred right on all suspicions but at some point I learned forgiveness because although I may have missed out on a few of life’s pleasures, I understood my mom’s absence at the same time letting go and dismissing the lack of knowing my father. With much resentment however I will say that despite actually being raised by Debra I inherited certain characteristics such as faith of a mustard seed, a love for writing and a passion for justice.

Today I am almost 40. I have 5 kids, my eldest being 22 years old. I haven’t seen him since he was placed for adoption at age 4. Caleb is his name, and he is a firefighter in California, from his social media I can tell he is a wonderful young man who is strong in courage and heart. He chooses not to respond to my letters and I respectfully give him his space. The other four children are with me and they each have their own unique purpose. I hope that Ive given them the tools to fix their biggest problems and I pray I’ve shown them the only source from which we receive strength. I try to focus on character building and being true to one self without neglecting humanity, I hope for a future more peaceful so can find the beauty in us instead of things. Most of all even when I’m mad I say I love you, so they’ll never forget it, this is my family, their family, we are all we’ve got. They will always know what that word means, and this will bring and end to my story thank you for your time I appreciate it a lot.