Where I'm From

I am from black shutters and white shingles, a blacktop driveway, and that hill in the backyard, a homemade ice rink, tall pines from my window, and a glimpse of the river. 8679

I am from Champlain, Griffon, Hennepin, and Joliet. From street hockey, grass alley, and the corner with Buzzerelli. I am from Cayuga Island and St. John’s, and the 9 kids in my 8th grade. From the park, and basketball till it was too dark to see, and watching the guys in the yellow suits across the little river.

I am from Love Canal and stories of relocations. From the Falls and the chemical factories where my friends’ parents went to work. I am from LaSalle. 14304.

I am from family and traditions. Canning and fishing, Bills and Sabres, the Mills Brothers and West Side Story. The Mercury and the truck. I am a patchwork of other’s history. My grandfather, the FBI, mafia and moonshine. and Grandma B. my mother’s forever best friend. I’m from the strength and elegance of my Grandma Smith and the resilience of my grandpa. I am from Scotland, South Africa, and Ellis Island, Thief River Falls, Chicago, Emerson Drive, and Werkley Rd.

I am from crossing bridges and new friendships. Sacrifices of money and time and the selflessness of my parents. Because of them, I am from 1250 Amherst Street. The clock tower in Albright, the fishbowl in Moot, and the sound the ball makes on the floor in the upper gym. I am from Mr. Kim, Mr. Truscott, and Mr. Williams. And I still find myself pulling ideas out of my sock drawer like Mr. Strachan told me to. I am from Nichols. And the green and the white.

Older now. I am from Memorial Hill and the Pioneer Valley, the Tetons, Lake Superior, and the White Mountains, and the wheezing screen doors and the trees and stars of Algonquin. Every place and every person a part of the quilt and the journey. But I am from the 716. The harbor, the skyway, the imperfections, the legacy, and hope. And the water. And knowing where I’ve been, recognizing where I am, and dreaming of where I’m going. (2014)