Category: Writers Block
Warm sun beated down upon Mom and me as we drove down the long narrow stretch of San Diego’s worn out highway towards my first violin lesson. How I had longed to hear those mysterious notes, and today was the day. But oddly enough, I was not excited, nor nervous. However, at this moment in time, my mind drifted off to other places. Deep, dark places that I would never dream of visiting ever again. My education was bothering me. Or should I say the lack of. You see, Mom was the teacher to us five kids. Yep, that’s right, my two brothers, two sisters, and me. I am the middle child, and the only one that has the lack of vision. Everyone else has always been able to learn just right, but I have had to go through so many tutors, mobility instructors to help me learn how to use my cane, and well, to tell you the truth, I became tired of being pushed around with know education. Dad tried to teach me math, but how could he? I mean, I can not write in print, but I could only write in Braille witch know one in my family could read except for me. Up to that point in time, I had only the slightest clue what “times tables” were, my adding, my subtracting, but beyond that, I didn’t understand. It was like a foreign language to me. But my siblings got all the way up in to algebra 1. They also tried to teach me the concept of math, but it just didn’t click! But as Mom was shuffling through the radio stations, my ear caught hold of a word that stuck to me like glue. “School for the blind.” That was all I could catch hold of. I didn’t want to stop Mom from looking for her station, but my brain began to think. What if there was a thing such as a school for the blind? If there is such a place, where might it be?
That night after dinner had finished, and the dishes had been run, I hurried upstairs towards my computer to do an internet search. It took a long time to find any results. There were a few schools for the blind in Nevada, Ohio, and Florida, but none in California. I was just about to give up when all of a sudden, my ears perked up. “California school for the Blind.” Taking no more time, I immediately clicked on the link bringing me right to the state school’s homepage. I must have been browsing through the site for some time, for I heard mom call out “Lucy?” Jumping out of my chair, I turned around to see Mom staring right at me. “Huh? … I’m sorry… I guess.., I…, I…,” “You guess? I have told you more than once to get ready for bed.” Mom said sternly cutting me off. “I didn’t hear you. I’m sorry. I will get ready now.” I was just turning around to close down my computer when Mom pulled me away from my computer. Before I could do another thing, Mom let out a horrifying scream. “Lucy!” gasping for air she unplugged my computer. “How dare you go on to such a site like that! … You…, you…, you don’t know what you are getting in to!” she managed to say through tears. “But Mom…,” “No buts about it! …” she snapped. “I will be informing your father about this. In the mean time, you are not allowed to turn your computer on. You are grounded little girl.” With that, she stormed off down the stairs in to the darkened parlor. Seconds later, I heard Mom sobbing and wailing as she retold the “horrifying story” to Dad. What would Dad have to say about it? What would happen to my future? Would I have to be forced in to being home schooled for the rest of my life? As I had heard in my dreams time and time again, “you will never earn your diploma. You are doomed for the rest of your life. You can run, but you can’t hide.” Curled up on my stiff bed, I cried myself to sleep hoping and praying that Mom would lighten up.
The next morning came faster then I wanted it to. My sleep was interrupted by Georgy and Tommy pouncing on me. “Wake up!! Wake up!!” they cried as the pulled the blankets off of me. “Huh? … Go away. Leave me alone.” I moaned. “Time for school! Time for school! Mom wants you up now!” both of them shouted in unison. Pushing both of them off, I jumped up and pulled on my baggy jeans, and my saggy sweater that looked like it had seen better days. Walking down the stair, I thought of the first few words that would escape from Mom’s mouth. “Sit down. Let’s talk.” Or, “come. We need to talk about last night.” I took the last stair as slow as I could, and turned the corner to find Mom with my two oldest sisters Lonny and Martha on the couch. Here it goes. I thought sitting down on the opposite side of the room. “Good morning Lucy,” everyone said with a smile in their voices. “morning.” I repeated gloomily. “What brings you so down?” Lonny asked. “Nothing,” I said staring down at the floor. I didn’t want to get in to the whole “you can not go to a blind school” topic up especially when my siblings were in the same room. They didn’t need to know about my plans. No one really needed to know. Not even my Mom needed to know, but she did. Now my Dad did, and I would have to face it sooner or later. “Well, never mind that.” Mom began. “Let’s get started shall we?” No reply. “Our first activity will be math…” “Please turn to page 177. … O ya. Lucy, you can just write in you journal. But,” drawing closer, she whispered “don’t use your computer.” Shrugging my shoulders, I walked to my room to grab the last torn up piece of Braille paper, the beaten up, dusty, overweight braillewriter that I was to use to write my long desired thoughts on to paper. Each key that I pressed to type a letter, it would stick, and slowly come up again just in time for me to push down the next set of keys to form the next letter in Braille. I really didn’t see any use for me to keep a journal in Braille when no one could see it. But come to think again, it is better for no one to know, rather than everyone knowing what I write and I could then get in to great trouble. On that particular day, I told about me finding California’s school for the blind, and about how mom had became so angry, and how I was afraid to see what would happen later on when Dad comes home from work.
It felt like forever and an age when Mom finally called me back downstairs. “OK Lucy.” Mom paused looking around. “I want you to read to us what you have in your journal starting from a week ago today.” Franticly, I searched in my head for the right words to say back to mom. What was I to say? “No Mom, I won’t! I just can not do it.” Or, “no way! This is my own journal, and I refuse to read what I have for you, or anyone else.” No way! I just couldn’t say that to Mom and especially in front of my siblings. What could I do? What was I to say? Scripture flew in to my head and came in so clear, I felt as if my head would explode. “Children obey your parents in the Lord for this is right.” And, “honor your mother and your father for this is right.” I could not go against my thoughts, and against God’s Word. Slowly, I sat down and opened my notebook that had my journal from two or maybe even three years ago. Taking a deep breath, I began. It felt like I had the whole world listening in to me. Or as if I was sitting in front of a judge and pleading for my life. Once I had read the last words, the room was filled with silence for a long time. It was one of those awkward moments that know one could ever figure out how to break out of it. “Well,” Mom breathed out at last. “fine job. … Wording could have been better, but other then that, great job.” At that moment in time, my heart leapt for joy. She really didn’t criticize me at all! She just said that I “needed to work on my wording.” That wasn’t bad at all! She could have picked and nagged at me for what I had done last night, or what I had done three weeks ago, but she really, truly didn’t!
Four o’clock came faster then I wanted it to. Dad walked in the door, and right away, just as I had imagined it so, Dad called me in to the empty parlor. “Lucy,” Dad began. “I hear that you have been looking around for schools. What made you do that?” “Dad, I know that I can trust you with everything that I say. I can really only trust you around here in this house. It feels as if no one else will listen to what I have to say, and they have know pity for me what so ever. I do not like being home schooled. I am not learning anything at all. Mom just has me write in my journal, and read it off to everyone. It is not a personal journal like I thought it would be, but a public journal where people can make fun of me.” “Your mom means good. She really does. But what would you rather see happening besides just writing in your journal?” “I would love to get some decent education.” “And how do you propose you get it?” “By sending me to a school just meant for the blind,” I replied. “And where is this “school for the blind?”?” “In Sacramento. Just seven hours away. …” “O. So you think that your mom and I would drive seven hours every day to pick you up just to turn around to drop you off? I don’t think so.” “But Dad…,” “No! There is absolutely no way that we would do that.” Standing up I said firmly, “Dad? If you would just listen to me, you would see what I mean. You wouldn’t have to drop me off at all. The school provides transportation to and from school via bus. All you would have to do is to drop me off at the nearest bus stop, and off I would go! It doesn’t take much work, and I would be living there all week long. I would come back on the weekends, and would go right back on Sunday night.” “And how do you know this? How do you know that it isn’t just a trick that someone has pulled on you?” “I know this all because I have done a lot of research last night. I have memorized the whole entire homepage. If you don’t believe me, why don’t you let me show you?” I must have taken Dad by surprise, for the silence that filled the room was ear piercing unlike the awkward silence earlier that day with my mom and siblings. “Well,” he began after a time of contemplation. “Let me see this so-called “homepage,” then we will go from there.” Leading him up to my room, I plugged in my computer, and began to warm it up. Just as I hit the power button, Mom hollered “Lucy, you better be staying away from that computer. If I see you on there, well,… I…,” “No worries.” Dad interrupted “She is showing me something and then she will get off of it right away.” It feels as if mom’s have eyes on the back of their heads, yet not only that, but outstanding hearing. I didn’t mention anything about being on the computer, but Mom just had an inkling that something was going on.
An hour later, and I had showed Dad all the wonderful features of CSSB. (Also known as California State School for the Blind.) “They even have a winter concert coming up. If I get to go, I would love to be a part of that. I think that they could use a violinist. What do you think?” I asked at the dinner table. “I really don’t think it would be a good choice for you Lu. But, let Dad and I talk this over some more and then we will get back to you about it some other time.” Mom replied eating the rest of the mashed potatoes. Feeling a deep sadness overwhelm me, I excused myself from the table, and ran to my room. I didn’t want to see anyone at all. Not after Dad had little trust in my words, and Mom just picking on me. I mean, I have had to live like this all of my life! Here I am a healthy 13-year-old, and I am being treated as if I were a five-year-old! I was sick and tired of people treating me differently. Just because I was blind, didn’t mean that I should be treated in such a harsh manner. Not even my four other siblings were treated this way. They got what they wanted. From sleep overs, to expensive paid trips to the Bahamas, it was granted to them. But me? I had never had a birthday party, no sleep overs, not a single friend was allowed to set foot inside my “jail sell.” This just had to end. And it would end right then, and there.
That night right before bed, I found myself creeping downstairs for a glass of cold milk as a bedtime snack. Walking back from the kitchen, I heard voices. Small, but yet clear voices coming from my parent’s room. “But she really wants to go! Can’t we just let her try it out, and if she doesn’t like it, then we can take her back?” “No way! You know that she will like it so much that she won’t want to even come home for the weekends. Heavens no!” “Look. I feel as if you are being too harsh on her. You have sheltered her far too long, and as her father, I feel as if we need to allow her to be able to spread her wings a bit more. I can get the day off tomorrow, and we all can go down to take a look at this place. If we do not like the looks of this place, then she will come home with us. If we like it enough, and if she likes it as much as she says she does, then we will let her go. How does that sound?” “Well,” a long pause filled the air. Holding my breath, I waited for the right answer. “well…, OK. It is worth the try.” Immediately I leapt upstairs on my tiptoes, and closed my door before anyone could see me. I did a funny dance, threw my arms way up in the air, and mouthed the words “thank You God” over and over again. I don’t think I had an ounce of sleep that night. The thought of being at a new school, having a “new life” and new friends excited me greatly.
The drive was outstanding. Mom and Dad gave the news at the breakfast table, and we headed out shortly after noon.
Seven hours later, I was standing in an elegant court yard with bricks and huge water fountains outlining the whole yard. All was welcomed there. In fact, the staff was so thrilled to have me there that they had my parents fill out the paper work on the spot. “There is know need to send you all home again. It is just a waste of time. We would be thrilled to have her be a student here.” One of the staff said smiling ear to ear. Come to find out, my parents were happy with the school, and even was so thrilled with it that they came for the winter concert, (which I was apart of,) and came for every event that took place up until I graduated. The five years that I was a student there taught me a lot of good. I learned to not judge quickly, and to have fun as long as I can. Life is not a bowl of candy, but with the help of the staff and students/friends, I grew up to be a strong headed person. No one nowadays could talk me out of doing anything. Just like I had talked my parents in to letting me go to CSSB, I have since then; talked them in to letting my brothers and sisters go to public school to finish up their high school years. It does take a long time to pick lilies from thorns, but it does work. This once “awful memory” is now a “wonderful memory” that will last with my family and I for the rest of our lives.
Oh, what now, peoples??? I get the first reply... muhaha. Neeways, great stuff, Chelse. I could totally relate to Lucy; she actually reminded me of a mix between you and me. Keep up the good work! *Hugs,* Mel.
So many are the adversities and struggles in life and ever the need to continue onward. A bringing into understanding the plight that some endure, making it through the tangled webs and going forth in a manner achieving. Good writing. As Life Flows on... Connie
Hey Chelsea, I like your writing too. It flows nicely and everything. And I like the topic!!!!!! Hugs to ya!! Macy
Um, sad. Reminds me of the student I worked with last summer. Sixth grade and barely learning math. I just wish the parents were smarter, because it's possible for them to teach us. My dad always told me to solve the problem, then tell him the answer. If that wasn't right, I'd tell him the work I did. Home schooling is possible for parents with blind people.