I Am From

Claire had a class assignment due this week that required her to write a poem titled “I Am From”.  It’s really quite good and so I thought I would share it with you!  (Don’t worry, I got her permission first, you know how writers can be about their personal work).

I’m from salt crackers, topped with butter
   that leave crumbs on Grandma Trudie’s couch.
   and from P.B. & J.‘s without the P.B.

I’m from giant yellow Teletubbies,
   blankets draped over kitchen chairs,
    and talking to friends that only I can see.

I’m from Grandpa Howard, Grandpa Les,
     and both Grandma Phyllis‘s.

I’m from “one, two, that’s twelve”,
   randomly breaking into song,
   and terrible dancing in public.

I’m from a countless amount of cousins,
   all younger than me.
I’m from dealing with small children,
   Poking, pinching, arguing, and whining.

I’m from “here comes the sun”.
   And “hit me with your best shot!”
I’m from first days of school with no front teeth,
   And rainbow striped tights.

I’m from skipping through Wal-Mart and
   Having Tootie-Frootie’s for dinner.
I’m from trampolines,
   And mud-pies.

I’m from black spandex, and the squeaking
    of fresh new Nike’s on the gym floor.

I’m from 2 hour drives to the middle of nowhere,
    And getting lost on country roads.
I’m from cattle guards and sagebrush.

I’m also from skyscrapers, tall bridges,
   And 100’s of apartment windows on every block.

I’m from neon painted fingernails,
   And colored-on skinnies.
From Converse, Vans, and mis-match socks.
I’m from peace signs, hearts, and bubble letter doodles.

I’m from living two lives.
   From two houses, two cities, two families.
I’m from hunting and fishing with dad,
   And from 12 hour volleyball tournaments with mom.


I’m from styles coming back from the 80’s,
   And styles that probably never should’ve existed anyways.

I’m from Christmas Eve bets on card games,
   gingersnap cookies, warm eggnog, and overcooked turkey.

I’m from “If you’re not weird, you’re not grand.”
That’s where I’m from.

Disclaimer:  I would like to mention that the eating cereal for dinner would happen at her Dad’s house, not mine.  Just saying.

I thought it would be interesting if the teacher had the parents write their version for their child.  I think mine would go something like this:

Claire’s from mac-n-cheese, grilled cheese or cheese quesadillas
From night lights, slamming doors and arguing over everything

She’s from writing stories, hip hop classes and volleyball year-round
And from Disney channel, Hannah Montana and American Idol

She’s from any color but pink, to neon pink Vans
From giving me grey hair to making my heart melt with pride
And from grocery store meltdowns, to the best big sister

She’s from me, that’s where she’s from.

Haha, she’d probably not appreciate some of that.  But hey, I say it like it is.  : )


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