Final Project:
Autobiographical Piece
Reflection Piece
Excerpt:
"I need you to think back for me. As far back as you're able. It's very important for this case and we're relying on you to help us solve it." The detective had been questioning me for about five minutes, but it seemed like an eternity to a child whose "perfect" world had just been shattered. I knew it wasn't really perfect then, nor would it ever be close to it, but it was what I knew and to a pre-teen, that is as close as it gets to perfection. "I don't remember anything happening," I reluctantly told her. "Can my mom please come back in?" "Not yet. I deal with these cases all the time and i know that often times people your age are more comfortable reaching out to a stranger in a protected situation than friends and family." She completely lost me there. I told my mom everything, including how much I hated and feared my step-father, and often times her too. "I just don't remember," was my last and final response to this woman. It's not that she wasn't talking to me politely or that I was hiding things from her, I really just couldn't remember!
From that moment on I thought, and thought. I knew there needed to be something, some reason for this absence. It was then that I realized that memories are kind of like puzzle pieces. They're all shaped differently, but somehow, some way, they all seem to fit together to create what we call life. While some may consider their memories to be more uniform and fit together more easily, others, like me have confusing, misshapen memories. It’s not as easy to fit them together to complete the picture because their edges are a bit fuzzy and don't have strong locking pieces that hold them together to make the picture look semi-complete during the process of being put together.
I realized that I was right in what I told her. Much of my childhood is blurred or absent from my memory. Of what does remain, very little contains pleasantries. For me, depression started at a very young age. Much of this remained unknown to me, until much later through re-telling and learning the dates of my medical appointments. While much of that likely influenced me greatly, it’s not a part of my memory until later, so it must not be yet important to my story.
Summary and Process:
I am evaluating the process of memory and how it relates to people as a formation of their past. There are points in life where memory has been suppressed due to tragic experience. Even the absence of memory presents an element memory of the past, with questions for the absence.
Other relative, but minor projects:
Poetry
Short Stories
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