My Gray Rainbow
“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!” All my life, there has only been one great love for me, WORDS! At a very young age, I would always turn to books and poetry, as a way to escape my tumultuous childhood. Though I had a “way” with words, I wasn’t necessarily the most verbal person in the room. As a matter of fact, I was the overly observant child in the corner, slowly and thoroughly, assessing each passing person; one by one. But that slowly began to change as I began to find myself and ultimately stumble across both my purpose and my passion.
Before anything else, my name is Shenequa Page. I am a 24 year old African- American female. I am originally from Hamburg, AR however I currently reside in Fountain Hill, AR. I often times refer to my childhood as, “The Grey Rainbow.” My biological parents were not extremely active as I blossomed from a girl to a women. However, I never allowed their absences or their parenting imperfections to get in my way of being great! My mother, at the time, was an abusive alcoholic and a struggling crack cocaine addict. My father, completely absent, acting as if my existence was just a figment of his imagination.
“Life ain’t been no crystal stair, but I wouldn’t take nothing for my Journey.” I looked forward to the weekdays, because I knew that I had at least eight hours of “peace and quiet,” while at school. Besides being at my granny’s, at church or at my aunt Nancy and uncle Robert’s home; school was my safe haven. I could be freed of the emotional, verbal and sometimes physical abuse that I endured back home. All throughout elementary, I excelled academically. As a matter of fact, I can remember sitting alone at recess many days to study my spelling words, instead of playing, like the rest of the children my age. I knew that I may or may not have time to study when I got home depending on the ever-changing circumstances inside that hell hole. My friends never assumed that I was a battered child. For the most part, no one knew, I didn’t necessarily fit the description of the abused kid. My mother kept my brother and I well groomed. She had always been a bit of a neat freak, so our home was always spotless. I didn’t miss school frequently. I worked well with others and my behavior was excellent. Doesn’t sound too bad, right? Well, lets just say that, my mother was able to hide the magnitude of her addiction from the people around her extremely well.
Finally, sometime around the fifth grade, my life began to change dramatically. My mother allowed her addiction to overpower not only her role as a mother but also her role as a sister, a friend, and a daughter. This took a huge toll on my young, developing mind. The pain almost shattered my fragile imagination. I almost allowed myself to become withdrawn from the world. Though I knew that I was surrounded by people who loved me, I still felt abandoned, and pained. My moms younger sister, Nancy and her husband, Robert (whom I previously spoke of), were granted permanent guardianship of my brother and I. It wasn’t until that very moment that the judge finalized the decision, that I felt like I could finally be a child, again! I had missed what it felt like to have a adult greet me anxiously at the door as I ran off of the bus in the afternoon. Now, I could finally start to “paint my rainbow” another color besides grey! I continued to do well in school, I was inducted into the National Junior Honor Society and later the National Honor Society in High School. I never lost my passion for reading. On the other hand, with my workload increasing, I didn’t have much time for leisure reading. And, even though my education consumed much of my thought process, the thought of my mom battling her addiction back in Hamburg still clouded my mind every day. I think her sobriety meant more to me than it did to herself. My parents lifestyles’ and bad habits were like road maps of what I should NOT do in life!
I wasn’t quite sure who or what I wanted to be, but I was certain that I didn’t want to be anything like them! Later, I blindly entered a poetry slam competition, just to test my writing skills. The rules were simple: Write an original poem, memorize it and recite it at lunch in the auditorium. The first place winner, would go on to receive a short article in the local newspaper and a $50 cash prize. To my surprise, I won first place! That win definitely inspired me to write more of my own poetry and short stories. It’s almost like I found my voice during this time in my life! For once, people understood me and they cared to listen to what I had to say. The words that I spoke and wrote, you see they made me feel worthy, they made me feel liberated. I was no longer the timid child looking for all the wrong qualities in a person. NO, now I was the woman on the stage boldly and unapologetically expressing herself. I would later become the only student (this is still true today) at Hamburg High School to advance to the National Level of the “Poetry Out Loud” competition in Washington, D.C.. My aunt and uncle, who I also refer to as my “guardian angels,” supported me every step of the way! One newspaper article at a time, I slowly became a small town hero. I was voted, “the next modern day Maya Angelou,” by my graduating class! I went on graduate high school in May of 2009. I knew that I loved all things that involved words but I was still unsure as to what I wanted to do with my future. I wasn’t sure if I could support myself as an amateur writer/poet. With that being said, I almost immediately chose nursing as my “backup” career choice. After taking my prerequisites to apply for nursing school, I found it even harder to get accepted to an accredited Registered Nursing school program in Arkansas. I tried again, and again.. but the competition was steep! Soon after opening many letters of disapproval, I was finally in! I graduated from Jefferson Regional Medical Center, School of Nursing in December of 2014. I have been fortunate enough to add a myriad of colors to my, once grey rainbow! On the other hand, it wasn’t until recently that I was finally able to understand why it has taken me so many years to paint this rainbow. You see, God only gives us ONE crayon at a time! If he gives us all of our colors at once, we may lose sight of what’s important! However, if he gives us just one crayon at a time, we cannot become distracted or confused by the gloomy glow of the grey crayon in the box!
The moral of the story is, I never gave up and I never will! I never let the amount of doubt overshadow the amount of faith that I had. I hope that by reading my story, you can understand my love for writing. Do not pity me, for I can do nothing with pity! However, I do hope that you were touched by my story! And I can also only hope that you lead me, and even maybe help guide me to begin a prosperous career as a writer/poet. I think that its essential that we uplift our voices! More people should share their stories in hopes of encouraging and inspiring someone else along the way. In conclusion, I would love to share the story of, “My Grey Rainbow” with the world! I also greatly appreciate your time and patience, May God Bless you!
Sincerely, Shenequa Page
Before anything else, my name is Shenequa Page. I am a 24 year old African- American female. I am originally from Hamburg, AR however I currently reside in Fountain Hill, AR. I often times refer to my childhood as, “The Grey Rainbow.” My biological parents were not extremely active as I blossomed from a girl to a women. However, I never allowed their absences or their parenting imperfections to get in my way of being great! My mother, at the time, was an abusive alcoholic and a struggling crack cocaine addict. My father, completely absent, acting as if my existence was just a figment of his imagination.
“Life ain’t been no crystal stair, but I wouldn’t take nothing for my Journey.” I looked forward to the weekdays, because I knew that I had at least eight hours of “peace and quiet,” while at school. Besides being at my granny’s, at church or at my aunt Nancy and uncle Robert’s home; school was my safe haven. I could be freed of the emotional, verbal and sometimes physical abuse that I endured back home. All throughout elementary, I excelled academically. As a matter of fact, I can remember sitting alone at recess many days to study my spelling words, instead of playing, like the rest of the children my age. I knew that I may or may not have time to study when I got home depending on the ever-changing circumstances inside that hell hole. My friends never assumed that I was a battered child. For the most part, no one knew, I didn’t necessarily fit the description of the abused kid. My mother kept my brother and I well groomed. She had always been a bit of a neat freak, so our home was always spotless. I didn’t miss school frequently. I worked well with others and my behavior was excellent. Doesn’t sound too bad, right? Well, lets just say that, my mother was able to hide the magnitude of her addiction from the people around her extremely well.
Finally, sometime around the fifth grade, my life began to change dramatically. My mother allowed her addiction to overpower not only her role as a mother but also her role as a sister, a friend, and a daughter. This took a huge toll on my young, developing mind. The pain almost shattered my fragile imagination. I almost allowed myself to become withdrawn from the world. Though I knew that I was surrounded by people who loved me, I still felt abandoned, and pained. My moms younger sister, Nancy and her husband, Robert (whom I previously spoke of), were granted permanent guardianship of my brother and I. It wasn’t until that very moment that the judge finalized the decision, that I felt like I could finally be a child, again! I had missed what it felt like to have a adult greet me anxiously at the door as I ran off of the bus in the afternoon. Now, I could finally start to “paint my rainbow” another color besides grey! I continued to do well in school, I was inducted into the National Junior Honor Society and later the National Honor Society in High School. I never lost my passion for reading. On the other hand, with my workload increasing, I didn’t have much time for leisure reading. And, even though my education consumed much of my thought process, the thought of my mom battling her addiction back in Hamburg still clouded my mind every day. I think her sobriety meant more to me than it did to herself. My parents lifestyles’ and bad habits were like road maps of what I should NOT do in life!
I wasn’t quite sure who or what I wanted to be, but I was certain that I didn’t want to be anything like them! Later, I blindly entered a poetry slam competition, just to test my writing skills. The rules were simple: Write an original poem, memorize it and recite it at lunch in the auditorium. The first place winner, would go on to receive a short article in the local newspaper and a $50 cash prize. To my surprise, I won first place! That win definitely inspired me to write more of my own poetry and short stories. It’s almost like I found my voice during this time in my life! For once, people understood me and they cared to listen to what I had to say. The words that I spoke and wrote, you see they made me feel worthy, they made me feel liberated. I was no longer the timid child looking for all the wrong qualities in a person. NO, now I was the woman on the stage boldly and unapologetically expressing herself. I would later become the only student (this is still true today) at Hamburg High School to advance to the National Level of the “Poetry Out Loud” competition in Washington, D.C.. My aunt and uncle, who I also refer to as my “guardian angels,” supported me every step of the way! One newspaper article at a time, I slowly became a small town hero. I was voted, “the next modern day Maya Angelou,” by my graduating class! I went on graduate high school in May of 2009. I knew that I loved all things that involved words but I was still unsure as to what I wanted to do with my future. I wasn’t sure if I could support myself as an amateur writer/poet. With that being said, I almost immediately chose nursing as my “backup” career choice. After taking my prerequisites to apply for nursing school, I found it even harder to get accepted to an accredited Registered Nursing school program in Arkansas. I tried again, and again.. but the competition was steep! Soon after opening many letters of disapproval, I was finally in! I graduated from Jefferson Regional Medical Center, School of Nursing in December of 2014. I have been fortunate enough to add a myriad of colors to my, once grey rainbow! On the other hand, it wasn’t until recently that I was finally able to understand why it has taken me so many years to paint this rainbow. You see, God only gives us ONE crayon at a time! If he gives us all of our colors at once, we may lose sight of what’s important! However, if he gives us just one crayon at a time, we cannot become distracted or confused by the gloomy glow of the grey crayon in the box!
The moral of the story is, I never gave up and I never will! I never let the amount of doubt overshadow the amount of faith that I had. I hope that by reading my story, you can understand my love for writing. Do not pity me, for I can do nothing with pity! However, I do hope that you were touched by my story! And I can also only hope that you lead me, and even maybe help guide me to begin a prosperous career as a writer/poet. I think that its essential that we uplift our voices! More people should share their stories in hopes of encouraging and inspiring someone else along the way. In conclusion, I would love to share the story of, “My Grey Rainbow” with the world! I also greatly appreciate your time and patience, May God Bless you!
Sincerely, Shenequa Page
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