Hood Ornaments Intro

We aren't necessarily meant to be here. We just sort of, happened. We get to be here. Earth would be better off without us. We may even be better off without each other sometimes. But we're all in this together with the same question in mind; "Why?"

  I asked myself this question every time my alarm went off. My alarms were always a little different. As a kid, my alarm was the sound of Eminem or DMX blaring from the living room as my father worked out. Reggae if it was a cleaning day. Most of the time, it saved me. Hearing my alarm go off for school was like hearing an Angel call for me. I'd get dressed eagerly because at school I was safe. If anyone was gonna ask about how I was feeling, I knew a teacher would. Or that I'd have an opportunity to write it down and maybe someone would read it.

    When I ran away from home, the alarms ranged from phone calls home from school about my attendance to literal trash being poured on my head. Sometimes I didn't want to wake up at all. But as an able-bodied, free thinking black woman, not only was I my ancestor's wildest dreams, I was my neighbor's and even my own wildest dream. To be able to dress myself, read, put money in my pocket and to even be able to see is something people would kill for. Too many people in my neighborhood had lost someone they loved to police brutality, drugs or just plain old violence. Too many opportunities missed simply because of the color of our skin. Different circumstances. My family could miss me, but I definitely wouldn't let them mourn or pity me.

  I went from a beautiful Long Island suburb to a part of Brooklyn that even the bridge was afraid to travel to. Empty shrimp tail shells and used condoms decorated the stairwells of the closest train station. I can't make this shit up. My backpack went with me everywhere. By the time I turned 18 I had lived in at least 11 different foster homes, so packing up and moving was all too routine for me. It was easier to carry the things that mattered most with me at all times. My planner, my phone charger, a good book and an umbrella. The essentials. Sometimes a stuffed animal if I was dating someone new, but my life was like a revolving door of people. Always a new family, different social workers asking the same question, friends that became strangers. They always wanted to take a spin, but never could stay. People didn't matter. Family, love, friendships. These things are important, but they are not what it's all about. Other people should not have the power to make or break YOUR day. I wish I had learned that earlier, but I digress.

  I've had to leave a lot behind. Schools, siblings, a few times even a bed. But I needed safety and I needed answers. If this is the only life I'm going to live then I'm not gonna spend it in fear or regret. Maybe overcoming fear was the answer. Real life begins about an inch away from your comfort zone. Your life is your truth. If you've always been crippled by the fear of mice, then mice will go down in history as monsters. It's not so much about searching for the "meaning of life" but more so about making your life meaningful.

  I turned the corner into my apartment building. I sat down to look for my keys at the public checker table where I witnessed some men doing lines of coke once. I stopped, frustrated, and lost my attention to one of the many trees outside of these buildings. Covered in paper plates, plastic bags and take out menus. Empty boxes of new electronics and trash bags packed right underneath. Something shiny was always coming into the hood, but that money never went towards bringing it up, or even getting out. The wind blew but the plastic bags were bonded to the trees and blew gracefully with the sneakers on the phone wires adjacent. We didn't have candy canes or gift wrapping. We had hood ornaments.