My very first essay entry was for the D.A.R.E program. A program that was introduced into the schools to inspire the youth to refrain from drug use and violence. I was in the 5th grade attending North Park Elementary School in Racine, WI. Even though I was a child, I felt like it was my area of expertise since I had hands on experience of being exposed to drug use, violence, gang activity, partying… all of the things that comes with that lifestyle. Plus, there was a D.A.R.E Jacket that was on the line for the first place winner. I was determined. I wanted that jacket so bad. I actually kinda needed that jacket. 

For as early as I could remember, I’ve always walked in my truth. Unapologetically. Sometimes embarrassed of course because I didn’t have the typical childhood my classmates had. My purity, honesty, and innocence were all that I had. 5th grade was the first year my sisters and I were officially under the care of our grandparents. Our mother, missing from the picture. Still partying. It would be weeks, months even that my sisters and I would go not seeing or hearing from our ,mother. I yearned for her. I missed her. I was worried about her. I prayed for her daily. So I decided to write about it. To write about her.

It was easy to write about how I was feeling. I didn’t care if it was correct as far as proper writing or grammar usage. I was crying out for help. A sad, depressed, confused, motherless child who didn’t understand what was happening to me and my sisters. Our world turned upside down even though it was already upside down. And our mother… free from her motherly duties but a prisoner of her lifestyle.

An assembly was in order for all of the finalists to share their essays in front of classmates, faculty, and family members. To my surprise, I ended up in the top 3. During the assembly the winner would also be selected. We were all winners because there was a first, second, and third place. Only there was 1 ultimate prize. I wanted that ultimate prize, I was determined to win that D.A.R.E jacket.

My grandparents were too elderly to attend but my aunt, who was one of my mothers, came as my support system. I was so nervous to speak in front of so many people. Even more nervous to share what I had written. I may not know or remember exactly what I had written up to date but I remember clear as day how I felt. I remember expressing how I felt through nervousness, a shaky voice, and crying while reading. I also felt like I dropped the ball because I ended up coming into second place. No D.A.R.E jacket. Just a medal of achievement and a D.A.R.E water bottle. I was upset for a very long time. I felt robbed of my truth. Robbed of the courage it took to share it. Embarrassed even because now, everyone knows the story of my mother being a drug addict. I felt like if I wouldn’t have cried, wouldn’t  have been so nervous that I would’ve had a better chance. 

That disappointment was through the eyes of a child. As an adult. I realize that I actually did win that day. I had done something that even adults couldn’t have done. Be Courageous enough to speak my truth. No matter how embarrassing it may be. Reflecting, I’m also realizing that I’ve always used writing as a form of therapy, even when I wasn’t aware and just wanted to win a jacket.

Talinna Holton (3.17.24)