English 111, it has been a long and tedious semester. I have always enjoyed English classes, but this is not what I thought it would be. I thought there would be a cozy room with comfy chairs, drinking coffee, and eating finger snacks. That’s how it was at my old high school but not here. Here I sit in a bright orange room, in chairs that make my butt go numb and some days, I want to fall asleep. Other than being in the boring room and wanting to fall asleep, I’ve learned a lot this semester. I learned how to write different types of essays, read more thoroughly, and take my time away from my laptop and phone.

Turning away from the screen was hard for me. I’m so used to typing my feelings away and using keys more than ink. I hated writing long handed, it hurt so much. I feel like I grip my pencil so hard that if I let go, I’ll lose my thoughts. The process of writing long handed helped when I wrote my other two essays. It gave me time to slow down and think about what I was saying. As teens we spend too much time writing shorthand due to texting. I feel that writing long hand helped us tap back into a more personal way of writing.

On the days when we played Scrabble and didn’t think about what Tara Westover says about her life in her memoir were my favorite. Scrabble is a very fun and competitive for most of us. I don’t think many of us had ever played Scrabble until this semester. I think word play day was good for us because we got time to connect with one another and build our vocabulary. I will say I questioned my spelling skills while playing this game.

Extra credit. I haven’t heard that phrase since middle school. Thank you for offering it to us! Without it, I don’t think I’d be passing this class. I liked a lot of the assignments. My favorite one was writing about one of the movies at the Spanish Film Festival that CVCC had a few weeks ago. I wish we could have written short stories. I know it’s not in the curriculum, but it would have been fun to write a short story and share them to the class.

Overall this class has taught me a lot. It’s taught me to meet deadlines, hold myself accountable, and to read more than just the words on the page. You also taught me that writing is never finished just abandoned. I have gone and found some of my old journals and started revising some of my old writings. You have been the toughest professor I have had all semester long. I didn’t like it at first, but I thank you for it. We need to have someone be tough on us and teach us. I am going to miss you and your class next semester. Thank you for all you taught me.

In this biographical movie, Selena Quintilian (Jennifer Lopez) is born into a musical family in Texas. Her father Abraham (Edward James Olmos) sees how bright and talented his daughter is and begins performing with her at small venues. After a long success on the Latin charts, she begins to write her first album in English. However, fate decreed that it would be an album she would never complete.

This is one of my favorite movies, I have seen it so many times. I love Jennifer Lopez not only as a singer/dancer but as an actor as well. Although I haven’t listened to much of Selena’s music or know much about her other than what the movie shows and what I know from Google research, I think Lopez did a great job with what she was given to portray the iconic Selena. Selena was loved by all during her time while she was in the music business. It is so devastating that she died at the age of 23. I think if she were still alive, she would be making music that everyone could enjoy even though our world is divided.

“Educated”, a book written by Tara Westover, talks about the struggles of her and her family. This book depicts how she goes from an isolated life to a brighter future. As she rises above the obstacles that were brought about by her family, it allowed her to overcome her emotional trauma. Getting into college eventually helps her discover who she is and how she obtains her freedom. “Educated” gives the reader a good perspective of how her family affects her emotional and physical state using abuse.

One of the main areas that was affected by her family’s abuse was her physical state. Her brother Shawn was a main factor of the physical abuse. In one chapter she recalls an event from her past and says, “Behind me was the same toilet Shawn had put my head in, holding me there until I confessed, I was a whore.” (Educated, page 285) Her father, Gene, had also stirred anxiety in her. She remembers that “Dad had dreamed up of many dangerous schemes over the years, but this was the first that really shocked me.” (Educated, page 137) Tara also fears of what may happen to her if she falls out of line. She states “I’d never seen Shawn give way to dad, not once, but he’d decided to lose this argument. He understood that if he didn’t submit, I surely would.” (Educated, pages 141)

Another way her family’s abuse affected her was in her emotional state. She never could tell when her father or her brother would treat her with kindness or treat her as a rag doll. Tara states that after having a phone call with her father from college she “…knew that it wouldn’t last, that the next time we spoke everything would be different… But he wanted to help. And that was something.” (Educated, page165) Her brother Shawn is also verbally abusive towards her. Tara recalls the time when Shawn called her the N-word all summer. “Shawn had called me Nigger that entire summer: “Nigger, run and fetch those C-clamps!”” (Educated, page 177)

Through the years that Tara spent with her family, she endured so much physical and emotional abuse. The survivalist feeling that her family has pushes her to do her own thing. She found her freedom by taking the ACT which got her into Brigham Young University. It was there where “she studied psychology…” (LitLovers: A Well-Read Online Community). Her family’s abuse gave her a reason to learn more about why they did what they did to her. Her life as a Mormon girl living in Idaho goes from being the “American Dream” to her trying to escape violence and an emotional prison that her family holds her in.

For as long as I can remember, reading has always been a part of my life. Even before I was born my mother would read to me in the womb. I’m not really sure why she did this. Was it because she wanted me to hear her voice? Maybe she wanted to help jumpstart my brain for when I was ready to start talking. All I know is that books are big thing in my house. Thousands upon thousands if books are stacked on shelves waiting for their covers to be open and pages to flipped through.

When I was four years old, my Granna was diagnosed with melanoma cancer. The look on her face that day is one I will never forget. Listening to the home phone hit the floor and her wailing in tears. Distress came across her face. I always felt like something was taken from her on that day. For everyone that knew her, it was the worst day of our lives. How could someone as bright and special as she have to go through something so energy draining? I stood behind the cracked door to her bedroom and watched her cry. I wanted to go in a hug her, but I didn’t want her to explain anything about it. As I watched her dry her tears, she picked up a book. I thought this was strange. Why are you reading during a time like this, I thought. shouldn’t you be getting ready for what is to come next?

The years passed on and as always, my Granna would read. She would read books with hundreds of pages. Even if she had her oxygen tank and the nose guards for her to breathe, she kept a book in her hands. I think at one point she finished three books in one day! I asked her one day why she read so much. She said “Reading expands the brain, and I want to read as much as I can before I…” she stopped. I could tell she was holding back something, but I didn’t know what. “never mind, do you want to read?” I tilted my head and looked at her funny. I was waiting for her to finish that sentence, but she never did. I smiled and nodded my head as I grabbed a prayer book from the shelf. It was my favorite book. I would read short simple sentences with prayers for the days of the week.

I remember waking up for church one Sunday morning. My mom didn’t want to go because she knew that my Granna would be going home soon. Somehow, we ended up going to church, but we didn’t stay for long. After the early service my mom got a call, her mouth dropped and her hand was at her heart. She grabbed my hand and said “We have to go.”  We practically jumped into the car and sped out of the church parking lot. I told my mom to slow down or she was going to get a speeding ticket. When we reached home, there was a different feeling in the air. Everything was still like it was at peace. I waited outside the bedroom door listening to my family cry over her as she laid there so still. I had finally had enough of the tears and said, “We should be happy you know, she’s finally at peace and not suffering anymore. She’s gone home to be with Jesus.” Even though those words came from my mouth, my heart ached at the thought that she wouldn’t be there to pick me up from school or to watch me sing and dance in the living room.

Two weeks later my Granna’s funeral came. Family and friends gathered in the sanctuary to grieve over a loving woman. That day my mom asked me to read something as a way to say goodbye. I chose the prayer book that Granna and I always read. I walked up to the microphone next to her casket and stood there. My hands shook so hard the book fell and made a sound so loud it echoed. So many emotions flowed through me. How am I supposed to read in front of all of these people? I thought. I picked up the book and began to read. My voice was quiet but boomed loud out from the microphone. As I read the words on the page my hands stopped shaking, my voice steady out, and a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I knew in that moment that she was there.

It wasn’t until years later that I really understood why my Granna read so much. As I got older reading became a way for me to escape and relax from the crazy life that I experienced after she died. Reading took so much stress away from me and I guess that’s what it did for her. Even now holding a book in my hands makes me feel close to my Granna. I imagine us sitting on the porch swing, me cuddled next to her, and reading the day away.  

I see it.

Not every night, but I see it.

In the blackest of black rooms, I see him. 

He appears when he thinks I’m in trouble.

Glowing red eyes and a white face.

My stomach clinches tight seeing him standing there.

Tied into a knot that can’t be undone.

I breathe heavily.

Why is he here this time?

I try to run, but it’s empty space.

No place to run.

I scream loud like a banshee.

My eyes open, back to reality.

I feel sweat pour down my face.

I sit up looking around for you, but you’re gone.

Finally, it’s over… this time.

I am Madison Melton, I’m eighteen years old, and I attend Catawba Valley Community College. In this blog you are going to learn about me; my life, my interest, my stories, etc.

I am the product of a divorced family. My mom and dad split shortly after I was born. My whole life I have known two different house with two very different families. My mom is an elementary school teacher at St. Stephens Elementary and my dad is a meat cutter for Fairvalue Grocery in Granite Falls and Lenoir North Carolina.

I am an older sister. My sister Scarlett is nine years younger than me and is starting 4th grade this year. She and I have bond like no other for being 9 years apart. She may get on my nerves, but I love her and I wouldn’t have anyone else be my sister.

I love to sing, dance, and act. I have been singing since I could talk, dancing since I was three, and acting since I was 10. These hobbies not only keep me busy, but they also help me express my feelings and help me come out of my shy shell.

I’m not gonna go into my full life story, but there is the gist you need to know. I hope you enjoy reading my blog post!