Where I’m From
By Adrienne Urbanski
I am from family pizza nights with rented movies from the video store,
Our eyes glued to the screens as we dreamed of larger possibilities
And lives bigger than our own.
Wondering who we could be or who we missed out on becoming.
I am from lilac bushes that scraped my arms where I created imaginary worlds.
I am from books that filled my head and gave me places to escape to.
My mind full of stories that kept me from the harshness of my reality.
And gave me the belief that my fondness for words and stories
could be a ticket to a better life where I could be valued and loved.
I am from Paul and Ava, a marriage that never should have been.
Generational trauma passed down again and again like family heirlooms.
From Norwegian and Finnish farmers who traded the coldness of their countries
For the coldness of Minnesota
Probably realizing too late that their new lives in America really weren’t much better.
I am from the ridicule of bullies that left me forever feeling that I’m never good enough.
But I’m also from a mother and from teachers who kindled sparks within me,
That many have tried so hard to blow out.
I am from charting my own path, making my own choices.
Abandoning the baggage of my old life in Minneapolis for a new one in New York.
Knowing that this path might not be the right one,
But at least it is all my own.
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Where I’m From by Adrienne Urbanski is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0
4 thoughts on “Where I’m From (Adrienne’s Version)”
Deeply moving. Those lilac bushes, the bullies, the cold – so evocative and painful. I love the way you begin — with those pizza nights that feel specific (and familiar to me) — and where you end up. What you say about ownership of your path rings true to me. I envy those who *know* everything is as it should be. (The own-ness is all I can be sure of myself.)
Thanks for the kind words Katherine! I am glad to hear that my poem had its intended effect/
Where I’m From
By Adrienne Urbanski
I am from family movie nights with rented VHS tapes from the video store,
Our eyes glued to the screens as we dreamed of larger possibilities
And lives bigger than our own.
Wondering who we could be or who we missed out on becoming.
I am from lilac bushes that scraped my arms where I created imaginary worlds.
I am from books that filled my head and gave me places to escape to.
My mind full of stories that kept me from the harshness of my reality.
And gave me the belief that my fondness for words and stories
could be a ticket to a better life where I could be loved and valued.
I am from Paul and Ava, a marriage that never should have been.
Generational trauma passed down again and again like family heirlooms.
From Norwegian and Finnish farmers who traded the coldness of their countries
For the coldness of Minnesota
Probably realizing too late that their new lives in America really weren’t much better.
I am from the ridicule of bullies that left me forever feeling that I’m never good enough.
But I’m also from a mother and from teachers who kindled sparks within me,
That many have tried so hard to blow out.
I am from charting my own path, making my own choices.
Abandoning the baggage of my old life in Minneapolis for a new one in New York.
Knowing that this path might not be the right one,
But at least it is all my own.
Very moving. I too love the evocative senses, especially the cold — trading coldness from two places for that of another and feeling that it wasn’t just frigid temps you refer to.
And I love how it moves from a place of a pain to one of resilience and agency. Beautiful.