A Visit to Edward T. Hamilton Elementary School
This break, short as it was, has been incredible solely due to the fact that I just walked ~1 mile or more to my elementary school, saw most of my teachers, spoke with them, and then walked home. And I feel like I've reclaimed something I've lost, the part of me that I've forgotten...the part of me that I shoved away, stashed under piles and piles of forgetfulness because I convinced myself that that was the part of me that made me into something in middle school that I despised. It was.
But it was also the part of me, the time in my life, that made me somewhat of a good person, too. It's the part of me that made me malleable. It's the part of me that pushed me to be creative. It's the part of me that made me love to write. It's the part of me that made me want to respect and impress the authority that deserves it and that made me able to get through the authority that does not. It's the part of me that made me love to read and the part of me that loves music. It's the part of me that taught me to always try my hardest, to work through problems instead of just leaving them to rot, and to learn to compromise.
Certainly parts of me that found their origins in Hamilton are not so good, and those are the ones with which I have done what I can. But what I think I've forgotten are the great parts of me that came out of my childhood. Going back today reminded me of that.
I don't think I need to worry about who I am anymore; the person we know as "Tara" is still evolving. Who she is is subject to change at any time and for any reason. And wasn't it I who said I hate labels?--so why am I looking for a sticker to post on the front of my shirt, with a single-word answer for all to see? I am not a single word. I am not so easily defined. Would it not be better to never entirely find myself? to keep discovering and rediscovering little pieces of me that may have fallen by the wayside for a while? Would it not be better to keep myself guessing? Why should all my own mysteries be revealed so early? What would that leave for later?
But it was also the part of me, the time in my life, that made me somewhat of a good person, too. It's the part of me that made me malleable. It's the part of me that pushed me to be creative. It's the part of me that made me love to write. It's the part of me that made me want to respect and impress the authority that deserves it and that made me able to get through the authority that does not. It's the part of me that made me love to read and the part of me that loves music. It's the part of me that taught me to always try my hardest, to work through problems instead of just leaving them to rot, and to learn to compromise.
Certainly parts of me that found their origins in Hamilton are not so good, and those are the ones with which I have done what I can. But what I think I've forgotten are the great parts of me that came out of my childhood. Going back today reminded me of that.
I don't think I need to worry about who I am anymore; the person we know as "Tara" is still evolving. Who she is is subject to change at any time and for any reason. And wasn't it I who said I hate labels?--so why am I looking for a sticker to post on the front of my shirt, with a single-word answer for all to see? I am not a single word. I am not so easily defined. Would it not be better to never entirely find myself? to keep discovering and rediscovering little pieces of me that may have fallen by the wayside for a while? Would it not be better to keep myself guessing? Why should all my own mysteries be revealed so early? What would that leave for later?