Words Are Things
Hello, I'm making a special case and posting on a Monday, but that's only because I wanted to shed light on another website.
An UNSCRIPTD Journey:
Our mission is to give emerging professionals a platform to share, reflect, and inspire others through their own personal experiences.
Our vision is to foster a community of people that propels the growth of our generation and transforms the way we view success. By hearing each other’s experiences we can learn that success does not follow a strict path, but is the UNSCRIPTD culmination of how we deal with the highs and lows of our unique daily journeys.
Check out the snippet below and read the rest on the link below the text.
Thanks!
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Here is An UNSCRIPTD Journey written by Marquita Amoah:
The same year my father left me on a New York City curb in front of a police station, was the same year I discovered writing.
I was six years old.
A few minutes earlier, my mother stood in the station, as a few officers and my father, pleaded with her to make me stop. She looked at them. Her silence loudened me. I continued to scream and kick as my father picked me up and struggled with me to his car. My small body, with all its might, cried louder than ever before. As he opened the car and placed me inside, I used my tiny fists to bang on the window. He disappeared for a few minutes as I caught my breath, ready to scream again once he entered the car. Instead, he came back to my side and opened the door, motioning for me to exit. I lowered my feet to the ground, unsure of what was going to happen next. Across the street, my mother stood alone, observing us. My father bent down, said a few words to me, kissed me on the cheek, and then got in his car.
I returned to my mother’s arms, content. Shortly thereafter, the visitation drop offs in front of the police station stopped. How easily he gave up on me. However, on a weekend I was supposed to be with him, I picked up a book of poetry, The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. I wrote my first two poems after reading it and began my love affair with writing.
That would happen to me a lot in life, moments in which I lost something significant, I would simultaneously gain something tremendous. Life ebbs and flows. At six years old, I lost the chance of ever having a good relationship with my father, but I gained the discovery of writing. A discovery that would get me published at fifteen years old and lead to me currently creating my own content, https://www.wordsarethings.org, a website I launched in June.
At thirteen, I spoke with clarity in front of a judge as to why I knew my father didn’t really want me, despite the fact that we were back in court seven years later. I lost my innocence, but I realized the power my voice held. At sixteen, my aunt passed away and I watched as the people around me crumbled. I learned how people navigated loss and how to be strong. I saw that people are intrinsically human: flawed and complex. I forgave my father....
Read the rest here:
