Where I’m from, I’m shaken and waken at 6:00 in the morning, i say “i’m awake, I’m awake,” only to retrieve to the sanctuary of my soft bed.

Where I’m from, I’m kicked out the door at a quarter to eight, cuz  I’m late to the education they call so great. Can I just have another sip of coffee?

Where I’m from, I rock back on fourth on the nasty subway cart, counting the minutes until first period starts. Hoping and pleading, don’t make me late, if I am, god knows, I’ll be burned to the stake.

Where I’m from, I sit in my chair, biting my nails, watching the clock, “you are choosing to fail!”

Where I’m from, when the day finally ends, and I’m done with this bullshit, I can finally see my friends. Or practice with my band. Or go home and watch TV. or take a shit. Or play guitar. I get tired and go to sleep. And then the whole thing starts over.

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CC BY-SA 4.0 This is Where I’m From (or so I think) by Stephen is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

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Youth Voices is organized by teachers at local sites of the National Writing Project and in partnership with Educator Innovator.

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