My Chapters
...er sandy blonde hair still flowed flawlessly to her mid back and her ocean blue eyes still had that same tint of green that made them look florescent. As I walked closer that glisten she had in her eyes before appeared to be gone. I tapped her sleek shoulder and said, “April, it’s me Danielle!” Her response made it certain that she had lost that kind sparkle in her eye. She stared me up and down like she had seen the Ghost of Ugly Past. April’s blazing glare burned permanently into my chest as she turned and walked away. Allowing this to happen I slowly walked away wishing I would be back at my true home in Texas with my real friends. Being a quarter Japanese I assumed this would be motivating to see what I could learn about my own culture and background since I was essentially there. Because of April’s turn down I then occupied my time with Ms. Ueno’s Japanese class. I had been made fun of many times about being Japanese but, I thought to myself, “What do I have to lose?” Ms. Ueno’s scent of rose peddles made going to her class feel like I was in the majestic garden of learning. Her jet black hair was straight as a board and she constantly found ways to make me feel like I was actually wanted. When attending her class it made me reflect on the background that I had been taught in Texas, in which was completely the opposite. She had said to me that, “I should accept anyone for who they are not what they are.” I took her advice and kept it within my heart every day. The moral of Ms. Ueno’s teaching was that Japanese cultures are very accepting with anyone who crosses their path and you should always have an open mind. She also made me understand that I am Japanese and within my character of who I am, I with held that specialty. On the way home I began to think about what Ms. Ueno had said that day and how it related a couple situations that had happened before. Ms. Ueno’s intelligent advice would have been very useful in that situation. I dosed off into the daydream of the dehydrated dirt beneath my feet whistling through the air as I walked across the plain to Gattis Junior High. My shoulder length auburn hair glistened in the suns rays as those same rays helped put more sun burnt raisins on my face that I desperately tried to cover up. My baby fat was still intact underneath the shapeless clothing that I greatly cherished because it saved me the humiliation of the typical junior high drama. My independence also salvaged the shame of not having as many friends as my older siblings. Walking ahead of mewas my older brother Brent, my older step-sister Carissa, and my younger step-brother Brandon. With shady russet hair, Brent stood tall and bulky and walked ahead of all three of us being the “family protector.” His bad-ass attitude gave off this wave of intimidation, like if you were to touch it he would give off his shock, or what we liked to call a “dead-leg.” Carissa reminded me of Pocahontas as her Sharpee black hair swayed with the gentle wind as well as her skin being as tan and smooth as a suede fleece. Then there was Brandon, with his short black hair that stuck strait up because he desperately wanted it to look like Brent’s. He was the follower out of the siblings. Looking around me I saw that Clovis’ society varied from people to people. Over by the bike racks was the Mexican group, with their slicked back hair and their oversized trash bag looking pants. On the other side of the court was the small group of blacks with their full-size afro hair that made them look like they had just stuck their fingers in a light socket. Then there was us, with our country cowboys and cowgirls with our navy blue wranglers jean that look like they were literally painted on our legs. The football guys were standing with us girls asking us what we were doing after the football game later that night. The way we were raised was that these were the people that we hung out with and only them. If you weren’t white, we didn’t hang out with you. Tom’s military status had our family moving from place to place. The next stop for us was Bellevue, Nebraska. The moment I heard those two words spit out of his mouth, my brother and I busted into laughter. “Bellevue, Nebraska, where is that? Some corn-field!” Brent remarked. His dream of becoming the typical Texas all-star football player ran through his mind making his decision for him. He determined that his football status was important enough for him to stay in Texas with our dad instead of going off to the corn fields with us. Leaving my family again gave me that continuous pain in my chest as if I had permanent heart burn. Packing all the things that had just been unpacked from Japan made it uneasy to focus on the genuine image of leaving and having to start all over again for the millionth...