Safe Haven

My mother was never the best person in my life. She has always been an alcoholic from the day I can remember. Alcohol has always been her best friend. My father was never in my life because his best friends were drugs and alcohol. That explains why he was never around. The moral is both of my parents chose alcohol or drugs over me. My mom did try to have me in her life though. With work and drinking, there wasn’t much room. She did try to make time for me though. She tried to have me over on weekends or when she didn’t have to leave early for work the next day. The concept of her having me over was nice, but I never really trusted my mom. When I visited her, I really never enjoyed being there because she left most of the time to go out and get drunk with friends. The rest of the time, she would stay home and get drunk then go straight to bed. But when I wasn’t there, then where was I? I was at my grandma’s, who everyone knew her as Buba. Buba was my sponsor for everything in my life, including my literacy.

Buba was more of a mother figure to me than my own mother. She taught me everything I know. As each day continues, she inspires me to work my hardest. She always supported me with whatever choices I made, even though she may have thought the complete opposite. Whenever I said something she didn’t like, she gave me a displeased look by thinning out her lips and squinting her eyes at me.

That was a common look from her along with her smile she gave everyone. Seeing the smile she gave me when I succeeded in a task or got good grades on my report card made me want to do better than anyone in my family, especially my parents. Now the memories of her smile, laugh and even the displeased look she gave me keeps me going today. Even though she passed away, she is the only reason I get through each day.

When I told her I wanted to become an author, she really didn’t understand why though. She always wanted me to have a career in music since I loved singing and playing instruments. She attended every concert, music event and even musicals I was in. She loved watching me on the stage as I played the tuba. She always said, “You have a talent for music, so why do you want to write a book?”

I responded to this comment with, “I love music, but I want to do writing instead. I love to write more than I love to play and sing Buba.” When I said this, she went crazy and asked me all kinds of questions on why writing was better. I told her I had a passion for writing and it was something I loved doing more. I always wanted Buba to understand my writing just like how Sandra Cisneros wrote in her narrative, “Only Daughter”, “I wanted my father to understand what I was scribbling…” (102). It was hard for my grandma to get across the concept of me writing fictional novels about romance and mythical creatures. She was definitely against me writing about the devil since she was a conservative Christian. But she always supported my career choice no matter what I decided to do with my life.

Buba inspired me to write and pursue a career in writing. She influenced my life choices and my writing ideas. She encouraged me to work harder and do more with my writing and even school work. This concept is exactly like an excerpt from Christyada Gordon’s narrative, “The Cult Known as Concert Band,” which reads, “Berkey influenced me by encouraging me to audition for everything I could” (31). Buba’s ideas of life and how you should conquer obstacles made me want to do more with writing. I wanted to learn more concepts about writing. I wanted to improve my sentence structure, vocabulary, ideas, etc. The wise words she gave me about life and the choices I make gave me lessons I could incorporate into my writing. It didn’t even have to be a novel, but also essays I wrote for my English courses.

When Buba took me in as her own daughter, my spectrum of ideas were on a whole new level. I was using lessons she taught me, words she used, concepts she learned through being a Christian and even used some of the stories she would tell me. I had been writing words I never knew I could use like how Malcolm X said in his narrative, “Learning to Read”, “...not only had I written so much at one time, but I’d written words that I never knew were in the world.” (108). When life got rough, I opened a notebook and start scribbling words down. These words turned into pages, and the pages turned into chapters. And when the chapters were finished and my ideas were complete, I had a complete novel filled with words of my own. My ideas have grown bigger and more powerful each day my life continues on. Buba cheered me on from the sidelines with her undying love and supportive words.

When I was younger, I always dreamed of doing different things with my life. I wanted to train horses, become a veterinarian, and even open up my own bakery. But once I hit sixth grade, my whole career choice changed. The moment I had a beautiful dream and remembered everything that happened is when I decided to become an author. This dream was so intense that when I was awake, it left my brain filled with outrageous ideas and imagery. It was too much for my tiny brain to handle, so I started writing and writing until I finished my first novel. It was 157 pages of trash. Now why did I call it trash? I say this only because I was in sixth grade so my writing skills were not good at all. There were so many grammatical errors that I just had to throw the whole notebook away. But when I wrote this book, I realized that writing was one of my safe havens. Writing helped me through the hardest days in my life because it helped me escape the reality I was living.

Each day I work harder and harder to make Buba proud. My writing has grown stronger with each year I complete school. When I graduated high school, I had written one novel, which is published on Wattpad and has 15,000 reads. I have also been working on three new novels, one being the sequel to my first novel written. She always wanted me to go to college, especially Seton Hill University. Here I am today, walking through the buildings and sitting in the classrooms of Seton hill. I am learning new ways to write and express my opinions on topics I never knew I had an opinion on. I decided to major in English to become an author one day. I am taking classes I never thought I would like, but am actually enjoying. There are days that are rougher than the others, but I am going to get through it because she would tell me, “Everything will be okay. You just have to keep going.” Even though Buba can’t be here to see me do more with my life, she is still watching from heaven. From heaven she watched me walk across my high school stage at graduation and saw me explode with excitement when I got my acceptance letter to Seton Hill University. She saw me shed tears when I was stressed and she saw me smile and laugh with my family. She is always in my life no matter what I do and is always influencing my decisions with writing and life. Buba and my writing will always be my safe havens.

Works Cited

Excerpt From: Seton Hill University Students. “From Shakespeare to a B Flat: Reflections on Reading and Writing.” None, 2019. Apple Books. https://books.apple.com/us/book/from-shakespeare-to-b-flat-reflections-on-reading-writing/id1472940182

Malcolm X. “Learning to Read”.: Writing About Writing 3rd Edition, Edited by Elizabeth Wardle and Doug Downs, Bedford/St.Martin’s, 2014, pp. 107-114.

Sandra Cisneros. “Only Daughter”.: Writing About Writing 3rd Edition, Edited by Elizabeth Wardle and Doug Downs, Bedford/ St. Martin’s, 2014, pp. 102-104.