Audio Essay
“I am from the same town, neighborhood, and room I always was, where there was never much to do so I spent most of the time in my room…
I am from a yellow blanket ripped to shreds in the wash and thrown away before I could say no. I am from hoarding memories under my bed until I can finally let the junk go…”
In class, we wrote “I am from” poems as a way to introduce ourselves to the idea of telling our own stories. The prompt asked for a line about my home. My home is the only house I’ve ever lived in. I have resided in the same small room, but at least I had a room to call my own so I know I’m lucky in that way. It’s been purple and yellow, blue, and now back to the white walls it began as 20 years ago. The room has been my haven from the rest of my world; every person deserves a place all their own. I have a place reserved for everything I call my own.
The prompt asked for another line about a toy or object from childhood. I remembered a beloved yellow blanket I had when I was younger. I brought the blanket along with me everywhere I wandered through the house. It got pretty dirty from being dragged on the floor and having food and other things spill on it. My parents washed it for me often, but that meant it got thrown around in the machine. Once it started ripping, I must have gotten more protective of it and not allowed it to be washed as often. I know they washed it when I wasn’t home or sleeping and threw out pieces that ripped off. Finally, one day it was gone for good; the last shred had been thrown in the trash. Knowing myself, I could’ve kept the last shred forever, adding it to the collection of items I keep under my bed.
After writing my poem, I started to think about other memories, which led me to the collection of items under my bed. I create attachments to items because of the experiences I have had that can take me years to completely get over. I still have papers and toys from elementary school, movie tickets from the last ten years, and stuffed animals with the same simple names I gave them way back when. I look at the collection every time I come home after being away for a long period of time, such as when I’m at school.
I have learned the deep attachments I connect to personal items. I don’t know when I will be able to get rid of that container, or if I ever will. In my opinion, I don’t think I ever will completely stop the practice because I enjoy holding on to my precious memories. There are some items I get tired of and replace, but ticket stubs and wedding memories each have their own boxes for safe keeping. I want to display the movie tickets I save up, pass down some of the books and toys to my own children, and maybe create gifts for my cousins using items from their weddings to give them while they are at mine. But regarding the items that I cannot understand my reason for saving yet still do, I think I will just replace the older items with newer ones over and over. If I lost all these tomorrow – like that yellow blanket from way back when – I don’t know what I would do. There are a lot of things I could do without, but a lot more that don’t suffice as just a thought in my head.
The “I am from” poem helped me to remember important pieces of my past. I always aim to be appreciative and thankful of the things I’ve acquired and how their meanings ultimately have importance. I am always ready to find new additions to the collection, whether objects or stories. I can find importance in anything and I’ve realize that I love that. I realize that this practice cannot be the same for everyone for a multitude of reasons; keepsakes they would find worthy of stowing away as I do instead stay stuck in their heads and hearts and carried with them on their journeys.