Where I’m From
I’m from a Southern backyard —
Magnolia grandiflora sporting huge white blooms
Honeysuckles spilling over the fence
Red roses soaked with the aroma of tea
Hollyhocks springing up yearly into flowering towers.
Mud pies being made in the shadow of a magnificent pin oak tree
Mint leaves mysteriously exploding with flavor when chewed curiously
Milk pods’ white fluids being tasted not knowing they were poisonous.
Bedroom window we escaped onto a table over a crawl space doghouse
To meet our coonhound Jethro and to play in the light of the moon.
Bedroom window from which we each wandered on separate occasions
Out into moonlit streets until being returned by kind policemen.
Concrete foundation swirls that frighteningly resemble a gorilla’s face
Wooden swing where we watched mad Mommy fleeing through the gate
Crawl space from which we heard our hound’s howls after Daddy’s death.
From which Mommy returned to the mental hospital after the funeral
From which we children went to live with barely known Northern kinfolk
Into which other families came to live in the bosom of its beauty.
After these events, life suddenly made no sense to a sensitive nine-year-old girl. Sheila’s search for meaning illuminated her journey from child to parent, from pupil to professional, from dreamer to doer, through a changing societal landscape. World events and issues such a sexism and racism became interwoven with her experiences and impressions, teaching her to seek the truth in all sides of life.
Sheila’s lifelong search is personal yet universal.
