Margaret, where are you from? Where are you from, Margaret?
I’m from learning a few words in sign language to spark my love for a language without physically talking. A language used by moving your hands into different symbols, and someone (if they know sign language) knows exactly what you mean.
I’m from running outside in the cool summer nights to look at the beautiful stars dancing all around me. The beautiful twinkling lights that I would later learn that most of them were actually dead, their light was just still lingering.
I’m from early mornings, warm hot chocolate to wake you up, donuts for breakfast, still wearing my pajamas; leaving when the suns only starting to rise and the long car rides where you’re sleeping the whole time. I’m from those long horse and cow-showing days.
I’m from the sixty second goodbye that I got before my sister would leave for beast and I wouldn’t get to talk to her for 6 weeks. I’m from watching her prepare for this day for two years and I still wasn’t ready.
I’m from the first soccer tryout for ERU that I was so scared to tryout for, and ended up making the team. I’m from the team that won playoffs and being so ecstatic to be part of that team. I’m from hard practices and tough games. I’m from hard work and dedication.
I’m that sign language-knowing, stargazing, horse and cow-showing, sixty second goodbye-saying, soccer-playing girl.
That’s where I’m from.