Faith Mitchell
Feb 15, 2023
I have always been good at storytelling, and making others feel the meaning of my words. Having literacy woven through my life through my ability to remember details has always been a part of me. I never thought it would be a factor in a life-changing event, but I was proven wrong. Earlier this year on January 14, 2024, I decided to drive over five hours up to the Finger Lakes in New York to visit my boyfriend at college. It was a trip that pushed me to not only be independent, but prepared for situations that I would have to manage alone. I had planned this trip about a month in advance, and my boyfriend and I had always had the idea of driving up to visit, but I had to pick a weekend to go through with it.
My boyfriend, Holton, and I have been together for five and a half years. We met in fourth grade and dated all through high school. We live five minutes away from each other, but now he is five hours away at a little college in Geneva, New York called Hobart and William Smith. You might be wondering, “How in the world are they surviving that far apart?” Well, we have had a bit of practice. For the first two years in high school, I went to a different school thirty minutes away from his. And earlier in middle school I had been homeschooled. Neither of us could drive, and I did not have a phone until my sophomore year. It was tough and testing, but once I transferred to his school, we were inseparable and thriving.
The distance between our colleges is more extreme. It fills both of us with homesickness. Holton did not have his car for his first year, so the only way we could see each other in between school breaks was if I drove upstate. I love road trips and have grown up going on them, so I was not worried about the drive. I knew the excitement of seeing him would be enough to keep me awake. I packed my bags the week before and kept an eye on the weather and what route I would take.
Problems arose on the day I was leaving. My grandparents start blowing up my phone, begging me not to go. They claimed my deceased father would never approve and that an incoming snowstorm, in the opposite direction I was going, would stall my travels. My grandfather called me at least ten times, demanding I would not go, and questioned why I was going in the first place. Thinking about it now, I realize this was a conflict that would change my life. Their words cut me deep. Why would I rip family ties to see someone I am not bound to by a piece of paper? I realized that the strongest part of the literacy in my life was how I felt about questions like this that picked apart my existence.
Through literacy, I can answer that question with love. I can tell the stories that prove why it mattered to take this trip, not just by words, but by feelings. But would putting that literacy to use be worth it? Would a piece of paper count as enough literacy to not be judged? Would it stop the harassment I had to endure? Would it stop any rumors and poking thoughts that I might be pregnant? It may seem redundant to ask these questions, but to me, they are the literacies that helped me manage this conflict and helped shape it into something I can use to grow as a person. My grandparents insulted me and broke my trust and bond. But with the ability to remember, and draft that story through literacy, I can become strong.
And even despite their harshness and negative predictions, my drive up was seamless. I listened to my favorite mix of R&B music and only had to stop for gas once. I learned how to pump my own gas that day. Something my grandparents could have been proud of. Once I got to the college, Holton ran outside to see me and help me carry my bags to where I was staying. That was the start of our adventurous weekend, without any of my family’s predicted issues.
We traveled to the Women’s Rights and Harriet Tubman’s National Historical Parks. These two wonderful places were something that propelled me to go on this trip, so I could see what makes up our country. I had never felt freer and in control of my own life, and I was with the person I loved the most. If we wanted to go to the movies we went, if we wanted to just stay inside and relax, we did not have anyone looming over our heads, like my grandparents, monitoring my every move. I never wanted to leave Geneva and go back home to confront the hate I had endured. But that was the elegance of this trip. It taught me so much about taking care of myself, and how to blend your life with the one of the people you love, even if your lives are different. It even taught me the opposite, that sometimes the lives of those you love will not blend with yours. I learned how to use literacy to express my feelings, good or bad.
“Home is wherever I’m with you” is the saying I remembered when coming home. I was filled with bittersweetness. I had been taken apart by my grandparents but grew into a better person at the same time. But I am so grateful. Literacy has an even stronger hold on my life and will be deeply woven into my writing and storytelling. It helped me analyze myself and how I can grow and reflect on what I have done to be who I am today. I am not the same as before, and I have learned to take hate and negativity to heart and use it as fuel to push forward.
