Grade 8
Teacher: Kay Honeyman
On the corner of
where the blind man begs, and where the little girl cries, I solemnly stand on
a lonesome street in Jamaica. I came to this society woven with poverty and
crime, on a scorching day in June. The elaborate brochures sprinkled with
pictures of the brilliant sun, and its perfectly isolated beaches drew us to
this not so brilliant or beautiful place. I knew I was traveling to Jamaica,
but I didn't think of it as leaving America.
As our family of six
shyly bunched together, we dodged stray, nearly starved dogs and the beggars.
There were so many beggars. All countries have them, but here they were not
swept under some intricate rug. There is one child's image who will always have
a home back in the deepest parts of my soul, and the richest part of my heart.
The dark skinned little girl's hair was fraying like a worn rope, her skin
burnt, and her eyes watering with the pang of her hunger. It killed me to say
'no' to such a young beggar, but I was told to stay away from such dying
spirits.
Besides the beggars,
I sorely have another vivid image of this country etched into my memory. It was
the stench. Glistening like black rubies, puddles of revolting garbage sat on
the cracked, pathetic asphalt. This nauseating garbage baking in the scorching
sun was another lethal combination, and the reek of dead animals just added to
it. However, the last night of our outing to this poverty stricken country it
had rained. I cringed as my foot slashed into a muddy puddle of rain from the
previous night. The stench of garbage was not as brazen, but the filthy puddles
seemed to beckon all the stray dogs in
the area. Oddly enough, the new rain had brought forth many others. For the few
men that had scraps of metal, which vaguely resembled cars, they would slowly
attempt washing them in the pools already swarming fresh with mosquitoes and
their larvae. I will never forget this moment, nor this country.
The first time I saw
the Jamaican sun slinking off in a radiant display of color I was mesmerized.
All of my family decided after the long plane ride we deserved our first trip
to this beach. However, after seeing our current surroundings we did not raise
our hopes, nor get too excited at the notion of swimming on these
"perfect" sands. I gasped. The sand was white, and the sea, a crystal
green. I couldn't believe the picturesque paradise that lay before me. We were
having the time of our lives, when we were abruptly interrupted. A small band
of soldiers came relentlessly marching forward. Carrying their guns, and
dressed in all out uniform, they looked awkward and out of place on such a
landscape. It was as if God had cut them out of a TIME magazine, and placed
them on our beautiful painting. l was more frightened by their dull, angry eyes
than their dark controlling guns. We all agreed this would be our first and
final trip to Jamaica's beaches.
And, as my feet were
set back upon sweet American soil, even if it was the airports', I smiled. Yes,
I know, I should have come back terribly miserable and depressed from all my
sight seeing, but I wasn't. I was thrilled and beaming with joy, not crying for
those distraught people in Jamaica. I was in such a hurry to get back home, I
had accidentally left the souls of those dying people on the plane. Knowing me,
I must have left them in the overhead storage compartment. A few days later,
however, I had realized them packed up safely in my brown leather suitcase,
just waiting for my flowing tears and broken heart. Every single memory swept
over me like a tidal wave, insanely hard and uncontrollably fast. I had been so
selfish, and in an attempt to maybe someday love myself again, I cried myself
to sleep. I saw her decaying body, and those eyes. Her eyes showed the depth of
her helplessness, but the most hope one might ever know in a lifetime.
And, there are times
in life we forget the details. The tiniest, most overlooked things that make
life in America so rich. In a jumbled crowd, how many people give you dirty glances for wearing those new jeans
you were able to buy last Monday? Did you take it for granted waking up to the
shriek of your alarm clock, and not the firing of a gun this morning? Or, did
you roll over and wish you didn't have to go to another strenuous day at work
or school, when there are others dying just to get a chance at jobs and
education? America is
a remarkably distinct country because we have our rights. Americans have poured
out their crimson blood just battling for them. It is because of these rights
that we can wake up every morning in a safe environment, wear what we want, and
worship whom we please. Our freedom to worship freely is a huge privilege in comparison
to other countries, such as Jamaica, in this world. It is a major step showing the
peacefulness and maturity our country already has obtained. As Americans we
have also gained our rights to speak freely, and to show one's mind. Foreigners
may have a negative image of Americans because we do disagree and give
different questionable opinions, but I believe this image is a positive one. It
is our right to disagree, to use our creativity to our capacity, and think
however we'd like.
Each of the
individual citizens of America makes our country whole. And, our country as a
whole is one of the richest and most powerful nations of our world. If the world
were a middle school, America would most certainly be captain of the football
team, or a perky head cheerleader. We would be the major trend setter. People,
or should I say nations, look up to us. Some even strive to be like us, because
we are known as the best. We are rich, have little poverty, are powerful, and
we are a secure nation. I consider the U.S. as a positive role-model of today.
Our country is certainly not perfect, however we are a stable one. We are a
country in balance.
"The land of
opportunity" is no stereo-type, because we live up to every bit of it. It
was exactly what attracted so many foreigners, such as the Irish, to our
blooming country. Americans have been given every opportunity to receive an
awesome education. Education is our golden key to opening up and unleashing
every bit of that opportunity that everyone deserves. Our country gives people
of all races, men and women, the opportunity to be happy, healthy, be who you
are, speak your mind, receive an education, and earn jobs. Opportunities are
the branches of America. They provide us with shade and shelter, and they reach
out towards others. America gives each person that steps onto her soil the
opportunity to be free.
We are strong and
lucky, but most of all we are blessed. "This is America ..... a brilliant
diversity spread like stars, like a thousand points of light in a broad and
peaceful sky" -George Bush. We are Americans. Whether its showing the way
for others, grabbing our opportunities, or thanking God for our rights, we are
Americans. When I think of America I can't think of words. I am too blown away.