Diary of Latoya Hunter (2 page)

I guess you can tell how my day went. Diary, what am I going to do? My best friend left to go to another school. I wish she could be with me. We had so much fun together. She moved right before summer started. She doesn’t live anywhere close so it would be much easier if she stayed at the school closest to her. That’s the only part of it that’s easy. The hardest part is not being together.

Dear Diary
,

T
he dreaded Freshman Day is drawing near. I can see into the deranged minds of the 8th & 9th graders. They can’t wait. I’ve heard rumors that they attack kids in the hall. I wonder if that could be true. Are they that cruel? I feel there will be a lot of fights between freshmen and seniors, I hope I won’t be in any of them. The thing is, I know the kind of people they’ll be aiming for. They are the quiet ones, the ones who aren’t into the crowd, the kids who don’t act like animals on the street. That’s the kind of person I am. That’s just how I am and how I’ll leave J.H.S. 80. I’m not about to change to fit in their dead-in-an-alley-headed crowd. I intend to make something of myself. Life is too precious to waste.

Dear Diary
,

I
s it strange for someone to
want
to get sick so they can’t leave their house for a day? Well, I do and you know why—it’s Freshman’s Day eve and tis not the season to be jolly. The older kids are really trying to make us believe like we’re trespassing on their property. Well, it isn’t theirs alone.

If there is a special diary way of praying, pray I’ll come home in one piece. I’ll write to you tomorrow. If I survive.

Dear Diary
,

I
can’t believe I’m here writing to you with no scratches or bruises. I actually made it! Something must have snapped in the minds of the older kids. Maybe they remembered when they were freshmen themselves because there were only a few fights today. I witnessed one of them with a geeky looking boy who really fought back, badly as he did. They didn’t really bother girls. I think that was decent of them. I’m really relieved as you may guess.

In the morning, Mr. Gluck, the principal announced that if anyone even thought of touching us it would mean suspension. Maybe that was why this Freshman Day was so much calmer. Whatever reason why, I appreciate it.

Well Diary, what I assume was the worst week of J.H. is over. I hope things will get better next week. It has to. It can’t get any worse … or can it?

Dear Diary
,

T
his weekend was the best I’ve had for a long time. On Saturday I went to a party all the way in Brooklyn. My parents wouldn’t normally let me go so far just for a party, especially since they wouldn’t be there but it was a cousin’s party, so they made an exception. I don’t think they wanted to go because it was only younger people like 25 & under.

It was a wonderful feeling not having them anywhere close. I felt independent. They always want to keep me in the house. I don’t know all their motives, but I know protection is a big part. They don’t realize that keeping me locked up just means that when I do go out there I’ll be unprepared. I believe I need experience more than anything to get along in N.Y.C. I live in the Bronx. I’d much rather live in Manhattan because it’s what I pictured New York to be in Jamaica with its big buildings and city-like sights. I live on a street where everything seems so ugly to me. The sidewalks, the houses, even my own house. From the outside it looks really broken down. It needs everything done to it to improve it. The inside is really small. It has three bedrooms, the smallest one, mine. I can hardly move around in it. I would say it’s the best the family could do right now, but I don’t believe it. I’m sure there’s a better place out there for us it’s just no one seems to be looking for it right now.

Most people don’t understand how I think. I have so many ideas that don’t check in other people’s minds. My parents
are the main people who can’t see into them. I would like to please my parents and let go of my ideas but I can’t. They’re stuck in my mind. Like at this party, there were a lot of guys. I like guys. There, I said it. It’s easy to say it to you, but my mother would give me a real hard time if she heard me say that. She believes a normal twelve-year-old should only obey her parents, go to school, learn her lessons, and come home everyday and listen to her parents some more. There is no such thing as a person like that! If I like a boy, she could talk and talk but it can’t stop me from liking him.

At the party, a guy tried to talk to me and I gave him a wrong number to call. He was
ugly
, his breath stank, it was horrible. I may sound stuck up, but in this case I’ll risk it. He was a dog! I had a good time anyway. My cousin dropped me home at 5:00 in the morning! It lasted longer than I thought.

Anyhow, I stayed home from church. I was too tired! I chilled out inside all day. I watched a lot of t.v., which is one of the only things I’m good at. My parents are cool with me watching t.v., at least it keeps me off the streets.

Dear Diary
,

I
have good news. On Thursday and Friday there’ll be no school. It’s the Jewish New Year. It doesn’t count for me because I’m not Jewish. I really respect these people though. Last year in school I learned about Adolph Hitler and all the terrible things he did to them. He was a psycho if you ask me. I can’t understand why people discriminate against others for simple things like skin color and religion. I strongly believe this world should be non-racist. I’ve never come across discrimination against me for me being black. I know racism is going on in all parts of the world but the fight is still going on too. That is something to be thankful for. Things like Mandela recently being freed has kept my hope alive.

Dear Diary
,

T
oday felt like a sneak preview of winter and a sad end to summer. It was fun while it lasted. I spent most of August in Toronto. It’s such a beautiful city. It’s clean and peaceful. In other words, not my style. I like action. It’s not so much the place that appeals to me, it’s my relatives living
there. That includes my grandparents on my mom’s side, my aunt Chunnie, and four of my cousins. The oldest is 20 and the youngest is now 16. That’s the only girl, Ann. We grew up like sisters! Like me their mom lived apart from them (in Canada), then took them up. Then she took up my grandparents. My cousins are who I grew up with excluding my Aunt Chunnie and her youngest son, and they were the only people I knew how to love until I was eight. That’s when I left Jamaica, my homeland, the place where my life was crafted. Sadly, until that time, my life was crafted without my parents. They were here in N.Y., struggling to make enough money to get my sister, two brothers and me to share with them the American dream. I didn’t know my father until he met us at the airport. He left when I was a baby. I’ve really gotten to know him over the past four years though. When I first saw him at the airport, I thought “Well this is the famous Daddy!” Everyone, even my cousins call him Daddy. Our families were that close. I can’t forget he was in a hurry to get home to watch a big baseball game on t.v. After that was over, he pretty much put all his attention into us. I can remember once when I was sick, and I’ll never forget this, he made me soup and made me stay in bed. I was like, “Wow! This is like t.v.” I guess in Jamaica I never pictured a father making soup for his kid. I pictured the mother doing those things, never the man. He isn’t easily upset or worked up. He hardly yells at me. That works with me because if I do something wrong and someone yells at me, I don’t feel guilty about what I’ve done, just angry at the person yelling. He just goes with the flow. He was really easy to get used to.

My mother is really complex though. I still don’t understand her. I had a faint memory of her while I was in Jamaica. She had left when I was 3 or 4. Anyways, they succeeded in getting my brothers, sister and myself up here. When we first got here she worked as a live-in housekeeper in Poughkeepsie for some very rich people. She only came home on Friday and left again on Sunday. We hardly ever saw her but she called all the time. What got her to quit was when I first started going to P.S. 94. I was in computer class for the first time and when I saw that everyone knew what to do, I got depressed. I never saw one before in my life. I cried and cried and the teacher sent me home because I said I had a stomach ache.

Anyway, my mom heard about it and decided she didn’t want to be away when things like that happened. I finally had her full-time. We enjoyed ourselves at first, being together all the time. But the excitement wore off and when I was around ten, we began the phase we’re in now.

As I said, I’m living in the Bronx, a place where walking alone at night is a major risk. The streets are so dirty and there’s graffiti everywhere. It really makes you feel down to walk around and see the things around you. The only colors I see are brown and grey—dull colors. Maybe there are others but the dull ones are the ones I see. Maybe if the streets were cleaner, and I would see colors like red and yellow, my surroundings would be more appealing but for now, all I see is dullness and cloudiness. There aren’t any pleasant smells coming from anywhere as I walk the
neighborhood—just the smell of nothingness. There are a few stores very close to where I live. They are one of the few things that are familiar to me in this neighborhood. Everyone knows me in these stores because if nothing else, I’m a junk food fanatic! There’s one at the corner, one around the corner and one in between. Besides them, everything is grey.

Am I lucky or what? I would say not but it wouldn’t be true entirely. There are so many opportunities we’ve gotten that we wouldn’t dream of getting in Jamaica. I guess that’s why they call this the land of opportunity. My mom works in a hospital not far from our house. She’s a nurses assistant, my father does security work. It isn’t a big income family but I’ll make it. I think we all will.

Dear Diary
,

J
ust knowing I don’t have to go to school tomorrow made my entire day today. I stayed outside with my friends after school. I haven’t done that for such a long time. I almost forgot how much fun I had with them.

I’ll tell you about Deborah first, she’s a distant cousin. She’s the one who showed me around at first and introduced me to people. She’s like the leader of our crew. She can act pushy sometimes but I like her. We would call her a Don
Girl in Jamaican. That means she’s someone you just respect.

Then there’s Denise and Monique, they’re sisters, but they don’t really get along. Denise changes her personality a lot and frankly I can’t keep up with her. Monique however, stays the same. She’s funny and just a fun-loving person. There’s also Lisa and Isabelle. Lisa’s cool, Isabelle’s someone I can’t explain. I’m not really crazy about her.

They, especially Deborah, have taught me a lot. Over the years they’ve shown me how to come out of my shell and have fun. They were the ones who introduced me to things like parties, music, boys … some crazy things we’ve done! One time we planned to go visit a cemetery at night. Is that crazy or what? Only we would do something like that!

Dear Diary
,

I
spent the day helping out my friend Anika. She’s moving out of her apartment. I’ll still get to see her though, she’s still going to go to my school.

We met an old lady on the street. We walked with her to the bus stop. I think in that short time we spent walking, she actually told us her life story. She told us she’s going back to high school and she seemed to be proud of herself. She told us about God and that He had been her best friend ever
since she was our age. It was really interesting to listen to someone who has lived and experienced so much. At first, I was just trying not to be rude so I listened, but soon I found myself wanting to hear what she had to say. I realize now that everyone has a life to them. I see so many faces everyday, it was nice to go beyond the face for once.

Dear Diary
,

T
oday three of my relatives from Canada came for a visit; my grandfather and two boy cousins Glendon and Dexton. They’ll be here until Sunday. I hope God keeps them safe for the few days they’ll be here. The other day a guy from Utah was stabbed to death while protecting his family on the train. That is a sad example of the crime in New York especially since he was just visiting for the weekend. The crime is really getting ridiculous here.

If I had a choice now, I would choose to leave this place. I just can’t feel safe here. I have good reasons too. My father was almost shot when he used to drive a cab at nights. My brother also came close to being a victim of crime. He was held up at gunpoint at the movie theater where he works in Manhattan. Fortunately he wasn’t hurt. I’m really scared to be here.

My friend Lisa wasn’t as lucky with brothers as I was. Her
brother was shot 12 times just the other day. I heard he was on the way to the store and someone waited for him and did the job. It was probably drug-related. He looked like someone involved in those things, sorry to say. She’s still mourning his death. Anyways Diary, that’s the way things are in New York city, my home.

Dear Diary
,

T
he weekend was great as always. On Saturday I went to see my aunt Rita. She lives 15 minutes away in the Bronx. Everyone went: my parents, sister, and my relatives visiting from Canada. It was a nice evening. Afterwards I went to my friend’s sister’s baby shower. I couldn’t stay long though because I wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. My mother disapproves of me being at that house. I don’t know what she thinks goes on up there but I know she’s wrong. She wrong about everything. She thinks there are things going on that she doesn’t know about, but there aren’t. I think in her mind she sees Deborah and everyone else with a bunch of guys partying and making out—what else could she think? I think she knows I wouldn’t do anything like drugs. If only she’d understand, then I wouldn’t feel guilty every time I want to be with my friends. Today, Sunday, I went to church. My relatives left and
went back home. It was nice having them here, even for a short time. I get to take communion now. Personally I don’t like the bread but it’s suppose to be the body of Christ so I eat it. I always make sure however that I have candy to get the taste out of my mouth. Well Diary, the vacation is over. I have to face school tomorrow. I don’t mind though, I’m going to try to feel comfortable there—I’ll really like my classes, and make more friends. I think things would really look up then. So far I like Home and Careers. I’m not so crazy about the teacher but I like the idea of planning and thinking about later on in life.