Category: Junior Literary

Dear former victims of abuse,

You have been given a situation well beyond your years. You have been force-fed something hard to swallow. You have been blessed with the kiss of bruises and belt buckles for no apparent reason. You have tasted salty tears and busted lips, smelled the stench of alcohol and dread. And when the possibility of it ever ending left, you became desensitized to all of it. The pain hurt a little bit less, the tears flowed a little less willingly, and the hope you so desperately clung to became a lot harder to find. And you’re left alone with nothing but your anger: anger at God and anger at yourself. “Why can’t you just walk away?” “Why are you like this?” Why did you do this to yourself?” “Why aren’t you enough?” Why?” “Why?” “Why?”

I am one of you. I have felt worthless, restless, and helpless. I have stood where you stood and I said what you said. And I know what it’s like. But this letter is addressed to FORMER victims. We made it out. We’re alive. We’re breathing the air we fought for for so many nights prior to us escaping. However, that kind of turmoil stays with you forever. That type of anguish is unrelenting, no matter where you may be.

 So, I want you to understand something. There is nothing in this world that could ever make you feel as terrible as you did in that predicament. Why? Because you have grown stronger since the day you fell in that rabbit hole. You have become keener, wiser, and you are now a better version of yourself that you never saw yourself being. And no matter how hard you fight the realization, that was not your fault. There’s a very common, very cliche quote that says,”Sometimes the prettiest flower has the sharpest thorns”. Normally it’s used in reference to girls that pretend to have bad mental issues to be “quirky” and “popular”. But now, I use this to tell you that sometimes the most caring, funny, perfect looking man or woman can be the worst to you. And you don’t deserve that. It may take you a while to figure that out (it took me almost 14 years), but one of these days you will look in the mirror and see the person you were made to be.

I also know that you want so badly to blame God for what happened. And in a sense, He is responsible. But not in the way you think. “But, Azya, how is He a good God if He allows stuff like that to happen?” Have you ever heard the term,” Things happen for a reason”? Without going through that experience, without being broken down to the point of bitter nothingness, you wouldn’t be flourishing. You wouldn’t have the experience to say that you lived through an experience that will haunt you, but will overpower you no more. We have been blessed with the ability to say that we are better than our circumstances. God has blessed us with the power to feel like we are ourselves again. That was all Him.

Now, I pray that you find a coping mechanism that helps you become better than your abuser was. I pray that you find the peace and serenity in your life that I know we all crave. And I hope, that one day, when you’re old and gray and the memories have blurred together like a smudged painting, you look back, and you thank yourself for forgiving that man or woman from all those years ago. 

Sincerely, 

A former victim of abuse

Although it’s weird to think of myself as a junior, it also feels natural, as I am the age of 17. My first week here at msa has been all the emotions, but especially joy and sadness. Last week I spent my day working outside to get a new phone (I dropped mine in a lake) and after, I spent it with my family. I was regretting my decision to leave them that night and lost sleep over the fact knowing I wouldn’t see them for another two weeks- that I wouldn’t be able to go home for another two weeks. That feels so far away now, like it was months ago.

This week has been so physically and mentally draining. I feel bad for leaving my friends and family behind, but I needed to do this and if they can’t support me, then they aren’t concerned for my best interests and if that’s the case, I shouldn’t be concerned of what they feel for me. I’ve learned that it’s okay to put yourself first, and you shouldn’t be miserable to save someone else from being miserable, because they will make new friends just like you will. But in all, this week has been a solid 7, or maybe 8.

The hardest part of being a student at msa and living on campus is what you leave behind at home. Your parents, family, friends, pets, other loved ones, and the memories you share with them.  Every year I’ve been in school, on my first day I would come home with a tired face and my mom would smile asking the typical question, “How was your first day at school?” And after I tell her about my long day, she would make me my favorite food while I watched TV. Of course, I knew I would no longer experience this tradition  before I came here, but it saddens me how quickly it is out of my life. That’s another hard part- the realization of independence and growing up. But that’s not a part of this school, it’s just a part of life this school pushed me to recognize.

If you were to ask me what my “happy place” is, It would have to be my grandma’s old house in Spanish Fork Utah. The graceful rolling hills and the rocky mountains with miscellaneous colors of green, all the colors blended together to create reassuring comfort. The sweet air was dry and cool and would effortlessly offer peace when a breeze ran through my long, shining hair. Not just the house itself, with walls of grey cobblestone and wooden planks, would give me a sense of happiness; but also the natural surroundings the house rested in.

The wooden steps from the 2nd floor descended outside where my cousins and I would sit and watch my grandmas dogs cheerfully playing in the soft grass. In the front yard, there were two great trees that stood beside each other with branches so wide and long, they piled on top of another. But once you pushed through the branches, there was a large opening  you could stand inside. I would spend passing hours inside those trees with my siblings and cousins having “meetings” about which games to play and who would be “it” first. And as I looked up the tall trees, a warm sunlight would shine through the dark leaves and rest on my face, brightening my blue eyes and the purest joy would fill my emotions.

I wish I could close my eyes and take myself to that place and time…

My happy place isn’t just a beautiful place, but a time where memories were made. Disappointingly enough, I feel that if I were to go back to my grandmas house that stood on a familiar mountain, I would not feel the joy I did all those years ago, and it would no longer be my happy place.

It has been quite a year, perhaps one of the most stressful ones I’ve endured, but I can’t deny that I have learned so much about myself here. I didn’t have any phenomenal break-throughs like some. I didn’t discover an entirely new aspect of myself, but my horizons were broadened. My spectrum was lengthened. I grew.

I kicked off this year crying over the anniversary of my friends death, from there I stopped wearing make-up often and shut myself out. I secluded myself out fear of people and the things that they could make me feel. I also set a diet plan, that I did for a while, but eventually quit due to lack of result. My weight has been one of my biggest enemies this year.

Eventually people began to see how sick I was, and I feel many, at some point, grew quite annoyed with my constant illnesses, fatigue, and complaints against my body. I have yet to figure out what is wrong with me, but hopefully that will surface soon.

I stayed in a soap opera of a relationship. That part even annoyed me haha.

I battled with stress disorder, and had a few stress seizures along the way.

Two more of my friends passed away.

My best friend walked out on me.

Yeah, it hasn’t been all to great.

But you know what? I went fishing for the first time since my friend (K) passed away. I found peace in his death, and found his soul by the pond behind my house. I learned to accept it, and though I miss him, I know wherever he is, he’s happy. That boy was always happy.

I came out of my shell. It happened a little late, but I did it. I started speaking to people, and laughing. I found joy somewhere in this school, and it was so relieving. I realized that there are really great people here, people I will cherish for the rest of my life even if I never speak to them again.

The diet never worked, but I got off the medicine that was causing the weight problem, and then got a new one that helped me lose some. I am currently working the weight off and have seen real progress.

I got my mom to agree to get me tested for Lupus, and other autoimmune disorders. I’m going to get a full screening over the summer to find out what is going on, so with the highest of hopes, I will be being treated and feeling better next year.

I haven’t had a stress seizure in a few months, and I really believe I am figuring out how to control it.

I keep the families of my two fallen friends in my thoughts everyday, but a wonderful teacher of mine taught me that it’s not fair to myself to dwindle on things I can’t change. I love both of those girls dearly, but they aren’t suffering anymore, and I use that thought to give me peace.

I made a friend who knows how to diffuse my bombs, instead of setting them off. It has been a long time since I had a friend who treats me as an equal, and she is honestly such a phenomenal person. I am so thankful that I got the chance to know her, and to now call her my best friend. I know I will stress her out sometimes, but she is the first person I have trusted in I don’t know how long.

I made many accomplishments this year, and I had many set backs. Yet, I feel I have finally found solid ground.

To our rising juniors, don’t be afraid. This is a place to hurt, a place to grow, a place to laugh and cry. I hope you are ready, but if you hit a hard spot, you can come to any of us.

My fellow rising seniors, Are You Ready Kids?

Ya’ll keep writing. I’ll see you in August.

I turned fifteen eighteen years ago today. I forgot to call the cops about the horse that stood on my birthday cake. My sister burst a pinata with the tip of her nose and my brother pooped in a spoon and gave it to my dog to bury.

Next was the sack race. I ate popcorn and elephants prior and it didn’t sit in my stomach so well. I sack raced into the grand canyon but before I fell too far my mom caught me with her one arm that grew several feet longer than the other. My dog then dropped the spoon full of poop.

I rubbed myself down with sandpaper until I bled pink bubble gum. I taste tested it and sure enough it tasted like the whale I had swallowed whole only seconds before my tenth birthday. Under my tongue there’s a marble made from a cats puked up hairball.

My dog built my whole house the day he miraculously grew thumbs, which is a miracle, considering my family lived on the streets as jugglers. My dad ate my homework after he scooped up the guts that fell from my pinata. When I told my teacher she laughed and said “oh, happens all the time!!”

That year I wanted to be a pirate. I stole one from the sea and shoved him up my shirt. It was needed to protect him from the sand (he had a bad allergy)

I pulled a snail from behind my ear. He told me I really needed to bathe. I nodded and handed him to my dog to use as a shingle for the roof. Next day, I cried into a lamp post until the light bulbs kicked me and told me I cried too loud.

My sister never wanted to leave her home inside of a dead buffalo, however the swelling of the bloated skin and decay caused flies to claim the house for their own. She let them keep the couch.

I kissed a roach on the mouth and he told me I was much better at it than his wife. My dad told me it was time to throw away the guts he had scooped from the pinata; it was making the roaches eat the ants.

When the bees ate my dog I cried. The poor thing was horribly allergic, but married that stupid insect anyways. I stomped on her at his funeral. I pray the police don’t find me.

It was a very interesting birthday.

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I know you are thinking

what

was

that

and that is good because that is exactly the point. For my last blog post, I wanted to try something very out of the ordinary. This is a prose piece. You are welcome to interpret it anyway you want, but to me I think it outlines the ridiculousness and randomness of life. The whole thing can seem to be a lie sometimes, but you have to face it anyways.

The hardest part of me is my skin.

It protects me from the outside world. 

People pick at me, trying to eat my insides.

I’m scarred, chipped, and broken.

 

I’m lost.

I’m a fish out of water. 

I’ve been thrown into a world

that is nothing like my own.

 

I’m aging; I’ll never be the same again.

My shell is cracking. They are getting through. 

Maybe I’m not as indestructible as I thought.

Maybe I am meant to be broken.

 

I’m burning from the outside in.

I scream, but no one tries to save me.

They leave me to drown; to boil.

Then they tear me open and eat my innards.

 

It is a sad life for a lobster like me.

 

 

I’ve really enjoyed writing poetry/prose from a different person’s perspective recently, so here ya go. Here is my parting gift from senior year, a poem from yours truly.

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I came by yesterday. You still keep the key under the welcome mat.I always pestered you to move it – I was always afraid someone would break in, but you had a tendency to not listen. I was half-hoping that you would be in there when I walked in. Maybe you’d smile at me, with pity because you regret what you did, or you’d cry and hold me because you regret what you did. But that’s in the universe where you regret what you did.I don’t get the pleasure to live there. Live with that version of you.I don’t get the pleasure to live in the universe where it didn’t happen in the first place. Anyways, I was only there to get some of my records. The ones we’d dance to while making breakfast. And there sitting in your window sill were flowers. Fresh pink tulips. Flowers just sitting there. Remember your last birthday? I asked you what your favorite type of flowers were, and you just told me “I don’t like the idea of buying flowers. Its just kind of stupid to buy something that’s gonna die, isn’t it?” And now here you are with fresh Tulips in your window. When did you become the sort of person who bought flowers. I guess things change. Similar to how one day you loved me and the next you didn’t. Things change, people change. I wish they didn’t. I haven’t changed you know. I’m still that same guy. The same guy that was in love with you. Still in love with you to clarify. You’d think its been so long that’d I wouldn’t be anymore. I’ve been seeing this girl for awhile. She’s so great. And I love her, I do, but I think there will always be some part of me that loves you. But I loved the you that hated the concept of buying flowers. I think you aren’t that girl anymore. Please, stop leaving the key under the mat. I want to stop worrying about you.

Junior year is now coming to an end and I feel like this is a time to reflect. There have been good and bad times at MSA but it was a growing and learning period. I hope that all of you take the time to reflect on this year and even address something to your senior self.

To the Carter of next year,

I hope this finds you well, dude. This is it. You’ve made it. You’re about to start your senior year and we both know that’s something you’re reluctant to do. I think you’ve got it, though. There’s been a lot of change with us this junior year. You’ve found out so much about yourself that you never knew. You’ve grown. I remember saying that I wanted to find myself and learn things that I never knew about myself. Well, guess what. I did. You did. Isn’t that wild? It’s even crazier because this is just the beginning. There is so much more to explore and find out and it seems like there’s not enough time to do so. I just wanna say this: make time. Make time to figure yourself out, please. For us. I honestly just wanna thank you for sticking with this school through the highs and lows. There were times back home when you were discouraged to even apply for this school. People told you that you weren’t gonna go anywhere or that it’d be hilarious if you tried this hard and still didn’t get in. Well, guess what. We got in. And, yeah, there were times you wanted to give up and quit. Your mental health got bad and you pushed so many people away. You even hurt people without even meaning to – but you made amends. You made amends and you got your crap together and said that you wouldn’t quit. Keep it together. Don’t quit. No matter what, you cannot quit. Don’t let anyone deter you from what you want to do. Don’t you dare let anyone get you to stop what you’re doing. You’ve worked so hard for this. Too hard, I might add. You’ve worked too hard to get where you are today. You may come back to MSA a different person but don’t let your goals waver. Only make them greater. It may get hard but you’ve gotta fight those hardships. Please, don’t be scared. This year will bring you happiness and success. You’ve just gotta claim it as ma would say. You got this.

– Imani Skipwith-Carter

This is officially my last blog post as a Junior at the Mississippi School of the Arts. This year has provided me with not only a broader education but also the life lessons I need to make it through. I am not saying that I know everything, nor am I saying that I have nothing else to learn, but this year has been a great learning experience in many forms. When I first got here, I planned on doing everything under the sun to keep myself busy. God, on the other day, had other plans. He gave me the chance to just live and learn and for that I am grateful. On the other hand, my living and learning lead to me working extremely hard, which led to me being blessed with opportunities I would have never thought of. As of right now, I am an executive of the biggest production on campus, the Black History Month Program and President of Artober Fest (our school’s haunted house). Tomorrow, I will find out whether I am an officer in Total Praise (our school’s gospel group). Along with being a busy body, I will have a lot of community service hours because of how many clubs I will be participating in. I would like to end my junior blogging experience on a positive note, so I am going to share a poem that I wrote. I came in writing poems and I want to leave writing them as well. This poem is called “tis the day”.

 

’tis the day. the day we’ve all planned 25 years in advance. my best-friend is adjusting my outfit to make sure it is as close to perfect as possible. you are already there, waiting on my mother and I to walk down this path of forever. I am ready to admire your face, kiss your lips, and rub your chest after these long 24 hours. I walk down the aisle, tears rolling down my face because your smile assures me that I and doing the right thing. our love radiates from our bodies into each other’s souls. and from that moment on, I knew…

 

I Do. I Did. I Always Will.

Junior year is slowly creeping to an end, and I have to say, it has been WILD. Upon the day I moved into MSA, I would have never imagined it would be this amazing and life changing.

I can say confidently that I am not the same person as I was when I walked in this place, but this isn’t a bad thing! I’ve grown into the person I’ve always wanted to be; the person I never knew I wanted to be. And the best part about it is I’m still growing. MSA has definitely shaped me into someone I’m happy to be, which has never happened before.

Throughout this year I’ve met the most amazing people, who have been the most loving and accepting people possible. I’ve been hit full blown with the procrastination wrath, and yes, I did come out victoriously. I came out to my parents, which is something I was always so afraid of doing. I’ve played around with my style, (which includes chopping all of my hair off. Hey baby juniors, if you’re reading this DO NOT CHOP ALL YOUR HAIR OFF IMPULSIVELY). I’ve lost some friends and gained some, but I can say that I still love each and every one of them. I’ve gotten through the hard times, and made the good ones last. I’ve pulled an all-nighter doing school work instead of at a sleep over.

I’ve found the beauty in collaging and the inspiration it can hold. I paid for pizza with pocket change, and in that moment I have never related more with a college student. I found myself not wanting to grow up for the first time, which is something I thought would never happen. I went from an introvert to an extrovert and then, yes, back to an introvert. I’ve found the beauty in other peoples words and thoughts. I’ve ALSO found the beauty in inspirational, cheesy, Ted Talks (I know I know, don’t come for me.) I created a “spam” account and felt the pain of posting something meant for your spam, on your main account, and I have never wanted to not exist as much as I did right then lol. I went about a month without caring about ANYTHING, until I logged onto ActiveParent and received a not too pleasing surprise (again, baby juniors, if you are reading this DO NOT SLACK OFF BECAUSE YOU WILL NOT BE PLEASED WITH THE OUTCOME). I’ve cried over the stinky seniors leaving because some of them I actually look up to, and would practically die for (shout out to Zoe, Fidel, and Avery:)). I’ve met some all around, true friends who I absolutely adore and love.

With all of that being said, I’ve packed my things and gotten ready for summer, and I am COMPLETELY ready for senior year. This year has been an experience that I will never get again, but I can’t help but have no regrets about anything that I’ve done here because in a way, I wouldn’t have come out as the person I am right here, right now.

(ew sorry that was absolutely disgustingly sappy, but hey, give me a break:))

And of course it wouldn’t be a blog by Vic without a song to end it. (LISTEN! IT’S AN AMAZING SONG.)