Where I Am From

There is a writing exercise going around that came from the reading of a poem called, Where I'm From.  It's about digging into your roots, from where you came from, using all your senses to bring up memories of what made you who you are today.  I wanted to give it a try and now I share it with you all.  Maybe you would like to give it a try yourself. . .

Where I Am From

I am from tornado alleys and where the wind blows red dirt.

I am from a place full of cowboys

and fields full of cows

and wildflowers and blackberry bushes.

I am from where the buffalo roam

I am from terrain where you'll find treasures of arrowheads.

I am from a land full of mosquitoes and scorpions and junebugs and lightning bugs.


I am from the bible belt, churches, old hymns, organs, and little dresses with bows on the back.

I am from sunday school classes, childrens programs, and youth groups.

I am from old pews and new pews, old ministers and new ones.

I am from pigtails, yarn ribbons in hair, and barretts.  I am from saddle oxfords .

I am from shyness, sitting in back rows, blending into crowds, hiding behind skirts.

I am from hopscotch, red light green light, and tag.

I am from mud pies and clover made necklaces, swings and slides.

I am city

and farm.

I am from tall sky scrapers and acres with ponds. I am from smog and cement pavements and also from clean country air and dirt roads.

I am from purple iris's and orange day lilies, swings, hammocks, and metal bouncy chairs, ponds, and cousins, woods and tree houses.

I am from gardens and music and guns and bow and arrows.

I am from piano lessons, recorder and violin playing, recitals and throwing up afterwards.

I am from playgrounds of warm musty attics filled with treasures and breezy barns filled with stacked hay bales to climb on and corn cobs to throw at siblings and cousins.

I am from lakes, ponds, moss covered rocks and poison ivy.

I am from pink calamine lotion and red mercurochrome.

I am from sweet tea, beans and cornbread, yucky lima beans, fried chicken, homemade bisquits and gravy, mashed potatoes, roast beef and roasted potatoes, potatoe cakes,and even frog legs jumping in the black, cast iron skillet.

I am from libraries, Nancy Drew books, writitng tablets and purple banana seat bicycles.

I am from grandpa who was sheriff and farmer.

 I come from grandma who was excellent cook, baker, homemaker, gardner and protector of grandchildren to the point of chopping snakes in two who slithered too close to her babes.  I come from bravery.

I am from grandfather who only had a 6th grade education and yet self taught himself to the point of taking excellent care of his family.  He roasted and sold peanuts, became a barber and invented a machine that supposedly grew hair that brought men from miles around. I come from hard workers.

I am from a grandmother who was another excellent, devoted housewife, cook, sewed, crocheted,loved to work in the yard.  I am from kindness and love. I am from devoted women.

I am from quiet people filled with kindness and compassion.

I am from a distant father

and an ill mother.

I am from depression, broken relationships and distance.  I am from tears of many kinds.  I am from healings, restorations and forgiveness.

I am from stories and love, healings and miracles.

I am from Pat and Jack.  I am from grace and mercy.  I am from God.

Where are you from?


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