The definition of a mother in society is “a woman in relation to her child”, this is very true but to me a mother is more than that. The problem is that most of the time we don’t appreciate them. The way this works is that, the mothers tell their children what’s right and wrong, of course we don’t listen, then we do something stupid/get in trouble and lastly the ones to help us out of it all are our mothers. I just wish every young teen would listen to their mom because that is how you avoid problems. Sadly I had to learn the hard way, I didn’t listen to my mom and now I regret everything I have done throughout my teenage years.
My mom tried to help me stay in the “right path”but all I would see was her annoying me and embarrassing me. I never understood why my mom wanted to take me or pick me up from school, or why she wanted to know where I was and who I was with. This reminds me of a spoken word piece that I watched by Kamal Saleh, “Dear Mum”, this piece demonstrates how much appreciation and love the poet has for his mom. He mentions that his mom would wait for him to call and couldn’t sleep because she was worried about him.The poet and all teenagers know our parents expect us to call to check in and let them know we are alive, but we just don’t do it. When I was in the sixth grade something weird started to happen, I didn’t know what it was at the time and neither did mom. Obviously my mother got worried and took me to the doctor, turns out I was diagnosed with depression ? That explains losing appetite, not wanting to shower, staying in bed, and crying for every single thing every day. When this happened I was 13, I was too young to be going through such mental illness !
Kamal Saleh mentions that when he was sick his mom always knew what to do to cure him, “a prescription of tea, honey, hand made lemonade”. Well my mom decided to research to find a cure for my depression, she was always on her phone calling therapist after therapist. She started taking me to these “depression groups”, I hated it so much, I always said “I don’t need this, I’m not crazy”. Then the therapists realized I also had anger issues, anxiety, and stress disorder. You can imagine what other groups my mom had to take me to, and I hated them all I would try to find ways to not go. These disagreements obviously lead to constantly arguing with my mom, and this went on for three years. In “Dear Mum” the poet also says sorry “for all the fights we had and for all those broken walls” this definitely describes what my relationship with my mom was like during those three years. The worst part is that it didn’t get any better after those years.
High school year, the “You will have a lot of temptations of smoking and having sex, but just say NO” year. My mom would give me speeches every day about why high school is dangerous, I of course never cared to listen. So as the Brooklyn, depressed, angry, anxious, and stressed girl I went to school just to go do my work and leave, no friends or interactions with anyone. That was a lie though, I ended up making friends, and not doing my work. Until one day my “friend” offered me a blunt, I was “crazy” but I was definitely innocent to the drug world. But even though I said “No” my depression said yes, I took the blunt as if I knew how to smoke. The “just try it once” became an every day habit, I definitely started to miss my classes, and my homework, I was on the edge of dropping out. My mother didn’t know anything, she still saw me as her innocent girl and still gave me those speeches. Sophomore year came by and my depression went from crying every day to cutting every day. I started hurting my self because I felt useless, stupid, ugly, fat, every insult you can possibly think of. I was in a dark hole with no escape, I thought my life was over but then I saw a little tiny light.
That tiny light was named Anthony, a guy that I have grown up with. We became close throughout sophomore year, he was always there for me making me smile, showing me love and care. He always put my desires and needs before his, similar to how the poet in “Dear Mum” says “she’s the type that would give up her only slippers just to make sure that my toes were warm”. That shows the love his mom had for him, she sacrificed for him and my mom has always done that for me but I never noticed, I was blind. I appreciated some guy instead of my mom who has always been there for me. The sad part is that later on when we were dating Junior year this guy tried to take advantage of me, I was blinded by “love” I didn’t realize that all he wanted was sex. When this happened I ran home crying, tear drops sliding all the way to my neck. I needed my mom.
The poet said “You would always be there for sure”, and he is right, my mom had her arms wide open ready to still show me love. After I told my mom everything that has been going on for the past high school years, she cried, held my hand and told me she was disappointed, but her love is bigger that she is only happy I opened my eyes. I started to go to therapy, one on one with a professional, every Tuesday. I went to more programs, and stopped smoking,”I’ve been clean for a week!” I screamed. Senior year I was a different person, clean of drugs, went back to being a scholar, but most importantly I became aware of my mom. I started to appreciate her more, for always being there for me even when I was rude to her. I would always complain about her making me do chores, when all she asked was to wash my plate only. I would go out without her knowing where, I never told her that I love her. Graduation day was a very emotional day for us, we cried of happiness that I got that far. I learned how to manage my anger, anxiety, stress and depression. In one of the helping groups, someone said “Depression is not something you cure, but it is definitely something you can control”, I can definitely say I have it all under control and that I feel great.
Dear Mom, I am very sorry for everything I have made you go through. I know I have been nothing but trouble for you but you always managed to be there with a smile in your face. I always cried for help when I felt sad without considering that maybe you have been feeling stressed and sad too. I’m sorry for not appreciating everything you have done for me, from helping me with my depression to giving me the last spoon of rice during dinner. I love you so much and I’m sorry I never told you, when you were the one who taught me how to speak. Thank you for sacrificing the way you do, but now I think it’s time for me to do it back to you. Love Karen.
Questions for Peer Review:
1.) Do you think I mention the poem enough? If I do does it connect to my story ?
2.) Is this piece too personal, if yes please give me suggestions of how I can change it?
3.) How do you feel while reading this? Does it remind you of your mother ? How can I make it connect with my audience ?
4.) Let me know what your opinion is about this piece, and feel free to ask questions. I’m also open to suggestions.
