Well, one more semester
before I graduate from high school. I'll be glad to be
finished. It's not the school work that bothers me, but
the particular school I have to go to which has never
been me. I've started to apply to colleges. I'm not
sure what I want to study, but I do know that I'm going
to college.
Marcela has sat with me
and we've paged through dozens or maybe hundreds of
grant applications. I'm amazed how many groups out
there are just giving money away. So whatever grants I
qualify for, I'll take, then I'll get loans for the rest
of the tuition.
My mom doesn't realize
I'm going to go to college yet. She's started telling
me that it's possible she might be able to get me in at
the factory sewing up pants and stuff. I didn't want to
offend her, but I told her that she didn't have to do
that. I can find a job on my own.
"Yeah," she said," with
your English you can probably work at Wal-mart where
you'll get regular raises and benefits."
I'm not sure what she's
going to say when she finds out I'm not going to look
for full-time work, but plan on continuing my studies
instead. She might not take it well.
I mean I make money here
and there, so it's not like I ask her to pay for
anything other than food, and the rent she has to pay
anyway. I buy my own clothes, pay for my own gas, and
if I go out I use my own money. Marcela pays for my
cell phone, school, books and supplies. I landed a
website design job just last week. I've been messing
with Marcela's computer programs for four years now, so
I'm not half bad with design. So one of the teachers at
my school needed a website built for her daughter's real
estate business. I told her I'd do it for five hundred
bucks. I thought she'd tell me to take a hike, but she
said okay. That money will pay for a lot of gas!
But though designing
websites is fun, I don't get those jobs very often. And
the job I used to have at the thrift shop is history –
the shop was burglarized and the owners decided not to
reopen. Just my luck.
So I'm not sure how my mother
is going to take the news. She might throw me out of the
house. Since I'll be eighteen, she can. Then I don't know
what I'd do.
Either way, I have to do
this. A degree will put me on easy street. I've seen all
the smart kids at my school. Their parents are all
professionals of some type or another. All carrying an
alphabet full of degrees. And all the kids are going away
to college to "be someone". Mommy and daddy are paying, of
course. Supplying money, cars, a home to live in. What
chance will I have to compete in life with kids like them if
I don't go to college? Probably none.
It's all a little
overwhelming at times. I mean, I'm only 17 and yet I'm
supposed to make decisions that will affect the rest of my
life. All I've done the last few years is work and study.
I have no friends anymore. No one from the neighborhood
wants anything to do with me. And really, I don't want to
hang out with them anymore either. All they do is get into
trouble. That's no fun.
Fun. I don't even know what
that means. Sometimes, I wish I could be like a regular kid
and not worry about money or if my mom had dinner or if my
dad will wake up on time to go to work and not oversleep due
to a hangover. Just a regular kid--except I'm not sure
what regular kids do. The ones I know get drunk, high, or
have risky sex --and the ones at school do the same, except
they add shopping to the list. I don't know, I'm over all
of that I guess. Nash says I've grown up too fast. Maybe
he's right.
