If you've read this blog in the recent weeks, then you're probably aware that I was seriously tossing around the idea of becoming a teacher for the visually impaired. Well, I've decided against the idea. And here's why...
To begin with, I will soon graduate with my masters in counseling. I need to invest as much of my energy into successfully finishing that program. Once I finish that program, I will likely start working in some capacity as a counselor or life coach. I even hope to work at a college or university as a director of disability services or intercultural initiatives.
Now, tell me... How would teaching factor into that schedule? Hmm... I'm thinking not at all.
Secondly, my larger and most ideal goal is to be a highly sought after professional speaker and well paid author. So, I need to do everything I can to make that happen. I'm in the process of writing my memoir, and i'm going to aggressively start promoting my speaker services this spring. If that kicks off like I would like it to, I'll be thrilled beyond belief.
So, I'm closing the door on the idea to become a teacher for the visually impaired. And I'm more than confident that my decision to walk away from that idea is the right thing to do.
Be well!
AB
Friday, February 10, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Sometimes you just have to do what you got to do.
I'm seriously considering making a huge career switch. Well, I probably shouldn't say it's that huge since my current career is not really working for me. To switch now really wouldn't be making a huge splash. No one would probably even notice it.
What am I considering as my next career move?
I'm actually thinking about becoming a teacher for the visually impaired.
Yep... Me...
The fact that I'm seriously considering this as a career option comes to a shock for me. I remember when I was in high school... I vowed I would never pursue a "blind" job. What's a blind job, you might ask. Well, I considered any job that was traditionally done by blind people as a blind job. I didn't want to be forced into a box that was specially designed for blind people. So, I avoided any jobs that were seen as being favorable or common for blind people.
In my maturity, I realize how dumb that was. Do you know that I actually shied away from doing music because I didn't want people to think of me as Stephanie Wonder or Rayna Charles? Yes, I know... Dumb! Now that I'm older and functionally broke, I now wish I would've continued my music lessons.
So, now I'm taking the steps to try to get certified as a teacher. After I climb over that hurdle, then I will pursue the extra certification that will allow me to work with blind and visually impaired students.
The reason why I said getting my teaching certificate was going to be a challenge is because I'm not really sure how many principals will allow a blind woman to student teach or intern in a classroom filled with sighted children. So, I'm trying to explore other ways I can get that done. Perhaps I can student teach at a small, privately ran school or even at the school for the blind in Austin. We shall see.
Now, here's the thing... If another career option opens up for me before I take all of these steps to become certified as a teacher for the visually impaired, then I will probably pass on the teacher thing. It's really not my first choice. But remaining functionally broke is my last choice for everything. So, at this point, I'm trying to do whatever I can to raise myself out of this financial hole I'm living in. So, if that means I have to leap over hurdles to get a job that's not even what I want to do for the rest of my life or even a part of my life, then I'll do that.
I'm a do whatchu have to do kind of woman. So, right now... That's what I'm doing.
I'm also still working on my masters in Counseling, writing my first book, accepting speaking engagements as they come, and about to mount my first stage play. Yes, I know I'm a busy girl. I'm working hard to try to make something happen for a girl that deserves a break.
Keep me in your prayers as I journey to a life that is stamped with destiny and sprinkled with prosperity.
Smooches!
Angie
What am I considering as my next career move?
I'm actually thinking about becoming a teacher for the visually impaired.
Yep... Me...
The fact that I'm seriously considering this as a career option comes to a shock for me. I remember when I was in high school... I vowed I would never pursue a "blind" job. What's a blind job, you might ask. Well, I considered any job that was traditionally done by blind people as a blind job. I didn't want to be forced into a box that was specially designed for blind people. So, I avoided any jobs that were seen as being favorable or common for blind people.
In my maturity, I realize how dumb that was. Do you know that I actually shied away from doing music because I didn't want people to think of me as Stephanie Wonder or Rayna Charles? Yes, I know... Dumb! Now that I'm older and functionally broke, I now wish I would've continued my music lessons.
So, now I'm taking the steps to try to get certified as a teacher. After I climb over that hurdle, then I will pursue the extra certification that will allow me to work with blind and visually impaired students.
The reason why I said getting my teaching certificate was going to be a challenge is because I'm not really sure how many principals will allow a blind woman to student teach or intern in a classroom filled with sighted children. So, I'm trying to explore other ways I can get that done. Perhaps I can student teach at a small, privately ran school or even at the school for the blind in Austin. We shall see.
Now, here's the thing... If another career option opens up for me before I take all of these steps to become certified as a teacher for the visually impaired, then I will probably pass on the teacher thing. It's really not my first choice. But remaining functionally broke is my last choice for everything. So, at this point, I'm trying to do whatever I can to raise myself out of this financial hole I'm living in. So, if that means I have to leap over hurdles to get a job that's not even what I want to do for the rest of my life or even a part of my life, then I'll do that.
I'm a do whatchu have to do kind of woman. So, right now... That's what I'm doing.
I'm also still working on my masters in Counseling, writing my first book, accepting speaking engagements as they come, and about to mount my first stage play. Yes, I know I'm a busy girl. I'm working hard to try to make something happen for a girl that deserves a break.
Keep me in your prayers as I journey to a life that is stamped with destiny and sprinkled with prosperity.
Smooches!
Angie
Monday, December 19, 2011
Just one of those things...
When I pulled myself out of bed Thursday morning, it seemed that my day was going to be filled with the usual stress that I absolutely do not look forward to, as well as the usual joys that I've come to depend on to help me cope with the stress that has plagued me for the last few years. But there was something different waiting on me in the afternoon hours. Something that hardly ever happens... Something I work hard to avoid... Something that I hate...
I work from home. So, I typically spend most of my time at the house. That's really not something I've come to like since I've been working from home. However, the total convenience of earning money in the comfort of your home is so attractive, there are only a few things in life I would trade my work at home option in to gain.
Well, last Thursday was one of those unusual days that I had to go into the office. After my niece called to let me know what time she was coming to pick me up, I slipped on some denim jeans, a blue, three quarter length sweater, and some high heel, black boots. Next, I flat-ironed my hair, applied my make-up, slipped my jewelry on my ears and wrist, and sprayed my favorite perfume around my neck. My goal to look the part, even if I didn't feel the part, was achieved.
After leaving the office, I asked my niece to take me to the bank so that I could take care of some of my financial affairs. She said yes, but made it clear that she had no idea where the bank was that I needed to go to. I called my sister to get directions. But instead of giving directions, she eagerly agreed to take me herself. So, my niece brought me home, where I could get out of her passenger seat to switch to my sister's passenger seat to go to the bank.
After handling my financial affairs with the teller, I slipped my cash and receipts in my pocket, grabbed my sister's arm, and exited the building, already processing how I needed to split my money to cover the household bills. When I stepped out of the lobby of the branch, I could feel the warmth of the radiant sun shining across my face. Even though it's winter, it was 79 degrees that particular day. So, I was enjoying the unusual warm temperature and the coolness of the wind that brushed against my face.
All of the sudden, without any foreseeable warning, I slipped off the first of several cement stairs in front of the bank. It happened so quickly. One second I was walking, thinking about all the bills I needed to pay, but still enjoying the Houston weather. And then the next second, I slipped off the stair and went tumbling down, and quite, quite fast and hard, I might add.
I tried to use my hands to break my fall, but gravity took over and demanded that I continue to roll down the stairs. My mind was racing as I was tumbling. I didn't want to hit my face on that concrete. I didn't want to break a bone. I didn't want people around me that were watching to think of me as the pitiful blind lady. It was all so terrible. Finally, after about seven seconds, my body rested on the bottom step. My sister grabbed me and helped me off the ground.
Before I could get home, my body starting aching. My leg, back, and shoulder were bruised up pretty badly. Thankfully, I had no broken bones. I took some pain meds and got in the bed to rest my aching muscles.
That night, my family kept asking me over and over what happened. They wanted to blame my sister or the bank. I had to explain to all of them it was just an accident. And while I don't typically have accidents because I'm blind, I really think that this particular fall was a result of not being able to see.
So, there was no point in being mad at my sister who was guiding me. There's no point in getting a lawyer to try to sue the bank. There's no point in even being mad at myself. It's just one of those things that comes with being blind. Sometimes you're going to bump into things, stumble and fall, knock things over, and lose something that's right in front of you. It is what it is.
I work from home. So, I typically spend most of my time at the house. That's really not something I've come to like since I've been working from home. However, the total convenience of earning money in the comfort of your home is so attractive, there are only a few things in life I would trade my work at home option in to gain.
Well, last Thursday was one of those unusual days that I had to go into the office. After my niece called to let me know what time she was coming to pick me up, I slipped on some denim jeans, a blue, three quarter length sweater, and some high heel, black boots. Next, I flat-ironed my hair, applied my make-up, slipped my jewelry on my ears and wrist, and sprayed my favorite perfume around my neck. My goal to look the part, even if I didn't feel the part, was achieved.
After leaving the office, I asked my niece to take me to the bank so that I could take care of some of my financial affairs. She said yes, but made it clear that she had no idea where the bank was that I needed to go to. I called my sister to get directions. But instead of giving directions, she eagerly agreed to take me herself. So, my niece brought me home, where I could get out of her passenger seat to switch to my sister's passenger seat to go to the bank.
After handling my financial affairs with the teller, I slipped my cash and receipts in my pocket, grabbed my sister's arm, and exited the building, already processing how I needed to split my money to cover the household bills. When I stepped out of the lobby of the branch, I could feel the warmth of the radiant sun shining across my face. Even though it's winter, it was 79 degrees that particular day. So, I was enjoying the unusual warm temperature and the coolness of the wind that brushed against my face.
All of the sudden, without any foreseeable warning, I slipped off the first of several cement stairs in front of the bank. It happened so quickly. One second I was walking, thinking about all the bills I needed to pay, but still enjoying the Houston weather. And then the next second, I slipped off the stair and went tumbling down, and quite, quite fast and hard, I might add.
I tried to use my hands to break my fall, but gravity took over and demanded that I continue to roll down the stairs. My mind was racing as I was tumbling. I didn't want to hit my face on that concrete. I didn't want to break a bone. I didn't want people around me that were watching to think of me as the pitiful blind lady. It was all so terrible. Finally, after about seven seconds, my body rested on the bottom step. My sister grabbed me and helped me off the ground.
Before I could get home, my body starting aching. My leg, back, and shoulder were bruised up pretty badly. Thankfully, I had no broken bones. I took some pain meds and got in the bed to rest my aching muscles.
That night, my family kept asking me over and over what happened. They wanted to blame my sister or the bank. I had to explain to all of them it was just an accident. And while I don't typically have accidents because I'm blind, I really think that this particular fall was a result of not being able to see.
So, there was no point in being mad at my sister who was guiding me. There's no point in getting a lawyer to try to sue the bank. There's no point in even being mad at myself. It's just one of those things that comes with being blind. Sometimes you're going to bump into things, stumble and fall, knock things over, and lose something that's right in front of you. It is what it is.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Twenty Years
As I'm sitting here working on my memoir, I just realized that I've crossed over into the 20th anniversary of losing all my sight. I was 10 years old when I first contracted Glaucoma. After a 7 year battle that included 14 painful surgeries, swallowing countless pills, and dropping liquid medicine in my eyes, I was left only with the ability to perceive light from darkness. A year later, the ability to see light would also turn into a nere memory. And the tripped out thing is that after going through all of that, there are still folks that believe I'm faking my
blindness.
If I'm that good of an actress, I need to be making millions in Hollywood instead of sitting here in this armchair updating my blog.
blindness.
If I'm that good of an actress, I need to be making millions in Hollywood instead of sitting here in this armchair updating my blog.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
I have a confession.
In general, I hate it when people use social networking sites, like Facebook, to air out their dirty laundry. Most of the times, I cringe and shake my head every time a highly inappropriate piece of personal disclosure from one of my FB friends pops up in my FB feed. I often wonder if these people just don't care what people think about them and their disclosures, or if they just don't realize what people really think about them and their raw FB confessions.
And then there are other times when I sympathize with my FB friends when I read their random confessions. I honestly think that people just want to be heard. They want their voices to be recognized. They want their story to be told. Isn't that why I and millions of others have started personal diaries on the internet in the form of blogs? Hmm...
Even still, I think that it's important for people to understand that telling one's personal story or honest perspective on an issue should require that you think before you post/speak/publish.
Words follow us. And words also have the power to empower or destroy.
I encourage everyone to find a way to use their words to empower oneself or others rather than using words to insult or disrespect.
And if you're one of these people that need to disclose for the purpose of cleansing oneself or unburdening yourself of bad feelings, be careful what you disclose and who you disclose it to. You never want what you needed to get out of your system in the first place to loop back and crack you upside your head when and if someone decides to use your confession against you.
There's no doubt that I have used this blog as a form of self-therapy over the years. There have been countless times since I started this blog back in 2006 that I felt like I needed to just get something off of my chest. So, I would write about what I was feeling and post it right here, on NuVision for a NuDay. But I would be kidding myself if I didn't think that my words weren't being read by people that I know and don't know. So, I don't post anything here that can revisit me in the form of emotional or verbal violence if it gets in the hands of the wrong people.
In the last few months, I've been working on my first memoir. As I write my book of confessions, I'm trying my best to write a book that will empower myself and others. I am not interested in hurting or outing anyone. I'm not interested in using my book to get revenge against people that have hurt me over the years. The only reasons why I'm writing my story is to take ownership of my personal truths, help someone else, and make some money. All true! LOL
I have another confession. It's 3:18 in the morning where I am. The truth is that I feel absolutely horrible right now. The truth is that I wish I could just get on this blog and complain, complain, complain, and complain some more. But what good would that do me or you? So, instead of complaining about all the things I'm going through, I decided to write something that can be helpful to me and others if you or they stumble upon this post.
I have one more confession before I sign off.
I hope you have a beautiful weekend! It is my prayer that you find personal fulfillment and peace.
Angela L. Braden
And then there are other times when I sympathize with my FB friends when I read their random confessions. I honestly think that people just want to be heard. They want their voices to be recognized. They want their story to be told. Isn't that why I and millions of others have started personal diaries on the internet in the form of blogs? Hmm...
Even still, I think that it's important for people to understand that telling one's personal story or honest perspective on an issue should require that you think before you post/speak/publish.
Words follow us. And words also have the power to empower or destroy.
I encourage everyone to find a way to use their words to empower oneself or others rather than using words to insult or disrespect.
And if you're one of these people that need to disclose for the purpose of cleansing oneself or unburdening yourself of bad feelings, be careful what you disclose and who you disclose it to. You never want what you needed to get out of your system in the first place to loop back and crack you upside your head when and if someone decides to use your confession against you.
There's no doubt that I have used this blog as a form of self-therapy over the years. There have been countless times since I started this blog back in 2006 that I felt like I needed to just get something off of my chest. So, I would write about what I was feeling and post it right here, on NuVision for a NuDay. But I would be kidding myself if I didn't think that my words weren't being read by people that I know and don't know. So, I don't post anything here that can revisit me in the form of emotional or verbal violence if it gets in the hands of the wrong people.
In the last few months, I've been working on my first memoir. As I write my book of confessions, I'm trying my best to write a book that will empower myself and others. I am not interested in hurting or outing anyone. I'm not interested in using my book to get revenge against people that have hurt me over the years. The only reasons why I'm writing my story is to take ownership of my personal truths, help someone else, and make some money. All true! LOL
I have another confession. It's 3:18 in the morning where I am. The truth is that I feel absolutely horrible right now. The truth is that I wish I could just get on this blog and complain, complain, complain, and complain some more. But what good would that do me or you? So, instead of complaining about all the things I'm going through, I decided to write something that can be helpful to me and others if you or they stumble upon this post.
I have one more confession before I sign off.
I hope you have a beautiful weekend! It is my prayer that you find personal fulfillment and peace.
Angela L. Braden
Thursday, December 08, 2011
Like a Ton of Bricks
The other day, I was in the laundry room transferring a load of clothes from the washer to the dryer when the darkness I live in 24 hours of the day suddenly became more obvious to me than it normally does. A profound sadness fell over me as the memories of losing my sight flashed through my mind in what seemed like a millisecond. For that very moment, I wished I could somehow forcefully plunge through the walls of impenetrable darkness that surround me and reclaim the light that was taken from me twenty years ago. And then as quickly as the sadness came, it left me. I tossed the last of the clothes in the dryer and walked out of the laundry room, determined to live a happy life, with or without sight.
Sorry, ma'am. This is real life. Not a Sprint store or a Lexis dealership...
There's no doubt that I wish my life came with an upgrade benefit, the same way Sprint allows me to upgrade my phone every two years. Boy, don't I wish I could trade my life in for a new one after so many miles has accumilated on it, the same way car owners do when their whip is starting to require too many repairs to keep it running. Can you imagine it...
Yes, sir. I'm in the market for a new life. This one worked out beautifully for me in the beginning. But now, it just doesn't have the reliability it once had. I'd like to see what new lives you have on your showroom floor. This time, I want one with a full warranty, a fantastic body, and a superior navigation system. Money is not an option. Just put me in a new life that I can be proud to live.
But hey... It doesn't work out like that. The life we have now was given to us by God. And it is our job to take care of it the best way we can and know how. And if there is an upgrade that we want in our lives, we have to work to attain it. There's no doubt that the work we have to put in to change and/or upgrade our lives is tough. But you're worth the hard work! Give yourself a good life! That's what I've been trying to do for myself lately!!!!!
Angela L. Braden
Award Winning Blogger
www.nuvisionforanuday.blogspot.com
Yes, sir. I'm in the market for a new life. This one worked out beautifully for me in the beginning. But now, it just doesn't have the reliability it once had. I'd like to see what new lives you have on your showroom floor. This time, I want one with a full warranty, a fantastic body, and a superior navigation system. Money is not an option. Just put me in a new life that I can be proud to live.
But hey... It doesn't work out like that. The life we have now was given to us by God. And it is our job to take care of it the best way we can and know how. And if there is an upgrade that we want in our lives, we have to work to attain it. There's no doubt that the work we have to put in to change and/or upgrade our lives is tough. But you're worth the hard work! Give yourself a good life! That's what I've been trying to do for myself lately!!!!!
Angela L. Braden
Award Winning Blogger
www.nuvisionforanuday.blogspot.com
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
Black Sky; Memoir of a Blinding Girl
I'm proud to announce to my readers that I'm currently in the process of writing my first memoir, Black Sky; Memoir of a Blinding Girl. I've completed 50% of the first draft a couple days ago. I'm working a few hours each day to complete this draft by January 15th. Once I finish, the hard work of rewrites will begin. I'll also start the process to find a literary agent to help me enter the world of publishing. Please keep me in your prayers as I pen my story.
Happy living,
Angela L. Braden
Happy living,
Angela L. Braden
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Thankful Times 7
1. I'm quite thankful that I got a chance to see the world through the lens of a girl with perfect eye sight the first ten years of my life. I'm quite fortunate to have seen exquisite paintings, marvelous sculptures, the mastery of an ant bed, the coolness of the color turquoise, the breathtaking ornaments that decorate the day and night sky, the broad array of human physical characteristics, a sleepy crocodile, the lapping waters of a massive river, and countless other visual masterpieces that I’ll be able to cherish for a lifetime. #thankful
2. I'm thankful that I can brush my teeth, use the toilet, bathe my body, perm/wash/flatiron/style my own hair, and dress myself, without the assistance of others. #thankful
3. I'm thankful that I got a chance to climb a tree, ride a bike, go horseback riding, jump from a swing while in motion, dangle from monkey bars, write in cursive, draw and paint an award winning piece of art, thread a sewing needle, light a firecracker, play Monopoly, catch a fish, and play video games before losing my sight. #thankful
4. I may not have all the $$ I feel like I want and need, but I'm so thankful that the money I do have has afforded me with a roof over my head, a mattress to sleep on, several sofas and chairs to sit on, two refrigerators to store my food, a washer and dryer to keep my clothes clean, a stove to cook my food, computer to type on, internet access to surf the web with, software to make my computer do the special little things it does for me to be able to use it, nice enough clothes and shoes, and food that I actually like to eat to keep me full. #thankful
5. I'm so thankful to b my mother's and father's daughter. I can't imagine what my life would look like if I didn't have both of them in it. Both of them truly are the reason why I am who I am today. I can never repay them for what they've done for me. I love you, Thurman and Margie Braden!!!!! #thankful
6. In 2008, I created a bucket list with 101 goals on it. Tracing my family history back to emancipation was #27 on my list. I'm so thankful that I achieved that and more. I've traced six branches of my ancestry to 1870: Wyatt, Grayson, Boyd, Dunn, Bacon, and Tillery. And I hit the jackpot with my Braden research. We've now been able to trace my Braden roots all the way back to the 1600's. Remarkably, I have ancestors that participated in the colonization of Jamestown. Because Dudley Braden had white ancestors, we've been able to trace our family history back to Scotland and England. I won't stop researching until I hit the banks of Africa. So, I forge ahead. #thankful
7. I'm quite thankful that I have the ability to remember, imagine, brainstorm, problem solve, analyze, criticize, and make decisions. #thankful
2. I'm thankful that I can brush my teeth, use the toilet, bathe my body, perm/wash/flatiron/style my own hair, and dress myself, without the assistance of others. #thankful
3. I'm thankful that I got a chance to climb a tree, ride a bike, go horseback riding, jump from a swing while in motion, dangle from monkey bars, write in cursive, draw and paint an award winning piece of art, thread a sewing needle, light a firecracker, play Monopoly, catch a fish, and play video games before losing my sight. #thankful
4. I may not have all the $$ I feel like I want and need, but I'm so thankful that the money I do have has afforded me with a roof over my head, a mattress to sleep on, several sofas and chairs to sit on, two refrigerators to store my food, a washer and dryer to keep my clothes clean, a stove to cook my food, computer to type on, internet access to surf the web with, software to make my computer do the special little things it does for me to be able to use it, nice enough clothes and shoes, and food that I actually like to eat to keep me full. #thankful
5. I'm so thankful to b my mother's and father's daughter. I can't imagine what my life would look like if I didn't have both of them in it. Both of them truly are the reason why I am who I am today. I can never repay them for what they've done for me. I love you, Thurman and Margie Braden!!!!! #thankful
6. In 2008, I created a bucket list with 101 goals on it. Tracing my family history back to emancipation was #27 on my list. I'm so thankful that I achieved that and more. I've traced six branches of my ancestry to 1870: Wyatt, Grayson, Boyd, Dunn, Bacon, and Tillery. And I hit the jackpot with my Braden research. We've now been able to trace my Braden roots all the way back to the 1600's. Remarkably, I have ancestors that participated in the colonization of Jamestown. Because Dudley Braden had white ancestors, we've been able to trace our family history back to Scotland and England. I won't stop researching until I hit the banks of Africa. So, I forge ahead. #thankful
7. I'm quite thankful that I have the ability to remember, imagine, brainstorm, problem solve, analyze, criticize, and make decisions. #thankful
Sunday, November 13, 2011
The Confrontation (Part 3 of 3)
Next we headed to the stables to embark on what was to be the first horseback ride for many of us. I held
Christie’s hand as we hiked on the dirt trail away from the lake and towards the horses. When we arrived at the stables, I was delighted to see the large, gallant horses that stood proudly as we walked towards them. Their brown coats were so thick and beautiful. Several of the horses were stamping their feet, trying to get the flies that were landing on them to fly elsewhere. I was totally disgusted by the sight of those huge, flying pests.
“Before we take our friends for a ride, let’s feed them a snack. Who wants to feed the horses?” Miss Lisa asked.
Several girls volunteered. I figured I should wait to see what did feeding the horses entail before I shouted meeeee.
A husky man with a gray mustache, dressed in distressed, blue denim overalls, an orange, cotton shirt, and a straw hat, grabbed a small metal box from one of the shelves in the stable and handed it to Miss Lisa. She grabbed three sugar cubes and put her hands up to one of the horse’s large mouth. That’s when I got a glimpse of how huge the teeth are in a horse’s mouth. There was no way I was going to feed one of these big teeth beasts one of those sugar cubes.
When the girls finished feeding the horses a couple dozen of the sweet squares, Miss Lisa announced that it was time to saddle the horses. She explained that she and the stable keeper were going to take two of us at a time out to the horse trail. I rushed to get in line, but I managed to somehow be towards the back of the line. Miss Lisa ignored my place in the line and motioned for me to come forward where she and the horses were standing.
She explained that I would be one of the first two girls that would ride, being that my parents were there to pick me up. I figured that someone must've informed her on the walkie talkie when I wasn't paying attention. I was so glad my parents were being patient, giving me a chance to ride.
I watched Miss Lisa help Sylvia, a petite, dark haired, Latina girl, mount her horse. It seemed easy enough when Sylvia did it. So, I figured it would be easy for me too. When my turn arrived, Miss Lisa held my waist as she instructed me to slide my foot into the stirrup and to hoist my other leg across the horse she affectionately called Benny. As soon as I had my leg hiked up to straddle the horse, the large animal stamped his massive hoof to shake off a huge, black fly that landed on his nose. He nearly sent me flying to the ground.
“It’s alright.” Lisa said.
“I got you.” Gripping me tighter around my waist.
I held tightly to the saddle as I mounted the horse. I looked down at the ground, quickly taking notice how far away I was from it, and also realizing how badly I would hurt myself if I accidently fell from the horse. I gripped the saddle tighter that circled Benny's waist.
“You don’t have to be scared. Benny's a good boy.” Patting the horse on its back.
Miss Lisa grabbed a leather strap that was attached to the harness of each horse’s neck. As she pulled forward, each horse started trotting to walk along each side of her. Fear crept up my back and tension gripped my shoulders. I felt so uneasy on that horse. I felt like I was getting dizzy, unable to keep my balance, and about to fall off the horse’s back at any moment. I kept looking down at the ground instead of ahead of me. Before I even recognized what I had done, I parted my lips and loudly blurted, “I’m scared! I need to get off.”
Miss Lisa stopped the horses from trotting and walked over and rubbed my back.
“You’ll be alright. Trust me.”
“No, I want to get off now.” Tears filled my eyes.
I’m not sure why I was crying. I’m not sure why I was so afraid. I just knew I wanted to get off that horse right then and not a second later.
"Please now!" I screamed.
Miss Lisa grabbed my waist as she directed me to safely get down from the horse. I tipped over to the side, nearly falling as I tried to catch my balance. I blinked my eyes over and over, trying to focus my eyes through the tears.
“We better get you back to the main office where your parents are.” Mixing the salty tears and sweat as she wiped my face.
Next, she used her walkie talkie to call someone and ten minutes later, Miss Tina arrived to the stables. She grabbed my hand and told me she was going to take me to my parents, who were waiting for me in her office. More tears entered the corners of my eyes. Miss Tina squeezed my hand and asked me why I was crying. Instead of answering her, I held my breath to try to get the disappointment to back out of my system.
I looked at all the girls, who were looking at me with puzzled expressions. I waved a sad goodbye towards them. I then spotted Christie, who was standing at the end of the line. Her reddish brown skin almost matched the red dirt Where she was standing in her blue and white Addidas. She had on a snazzy, red, white, and blue short set that I hadn’t really paid attention to before that point. Sadness filled her brown eyes as she waved goodbye to me.
“Bye Angela. See you at school.” She said.
I released the air from my lungs and offered her a somber goodbye as I wiped the remaining tears from my eyes.
Miss Tina and I slowly walked to the office where my parents were waiting on me. When we arrived to the air conditioned building, I was relieved to feel the coolness of the air and to also see my smiling parents. Daddy informed me that my things were already in the car, ready to go. And the only thing they needed to get back on the road was me. I pulled my hand from Miss Tina’s hand and went to grab my mother’s arm.
Miss Tina and my parents exchanged a little conversation about the weather, the campgrounds, the traffic in Houston, and the mosquito problem in the woods. Twenty minutes later, we were riding on 59 South, headed back to Houston. My daddy asked me if I enjoyed the horseback ride.
“It was okay.” I replied.
“Just okay?” Mama asked.
I didn’t tell my parents how scared I was and that I demanded to get off the horse. And even though my parents were very perceptive when it came to each other and their four daughters, they had no idea that I had been crying right before I met them at the office.
I did, however, tell them about my fish victory. Daddy laughed and laughed when I told him how Christie threw the fish back in the water. My mother didn’t think it was quite as funny. That caused Daddy and I to laugh more.
Christie’s hand as we hiked on the dirt trail away from the lake and towards the horses. When we arrived at the stables, I was delighted to see the large, gallant horses that stood proudly as we walked towards them. Their brown coats were so thick and beautiful. Several of the horses were stamping their feet, trying to get the flies that were landing on them to fly elsewhere. I was totally disgusted by the sight of those huge, flying pests.
“Before we take our friends for a ride, let’s feed them a snack. Who wants to feed the horses?” Miss Lisa asked.
Several girls volunteered. I figured I should wait to see what did feeding the horses entail before I shouted meeeee.
A husky man with a gray mustache, dressed in distressed, blue denim overalls, an orange, cotton shirt, and a straw hat, grabbed a small metal box from one of the shelves in the stable and handed it to Miss Lisa. She grabbed three sugar cubes and put her hands up to one of the horse’s large mouth. That’s when I got a glimpse of how huge the teeth are in a horse’s mouth. There was no way I was going to feed one of these big teeth beasts one of those sugar cubes.
When the girls finished feeding the horses a couple dozen of the sweet squares, Miss Lisa announced that it was time to saddle the horses. She explained that she and the stable keeper were going to take two of us at a time out to the horse trail. I rushed to get in line, but I managed to somehow be towards the back of the line. Miss Lisa ignored my place in the line and motioned for me to come forward where she and the horses were standing.
She explained that I would be one of the first two girls that would ride, being that my parents were there to pick me up. I figured that someone must've informed her on the walkie talkie when I wasn't paying attention. I was so glad my parents were being patient, giving me a chance to ride.
I watched Miss Lisa help Sylvia, a petite, dark haired, Latina girl, mount her horse. It seemed easy enough when Sylvia did it. So, I figured it would be easy for me too. When my turn arrived, Miss Lisa held my waist as she instructed me to slide my foot into the stirrup and to hoist my other leg across the horse she affectionately called Benny. As soon as I had my leg hiked up to straddle the horse, the large animal stamped his massive hoof to shake off a huge, black fly that landed on his nose. He nearly sent me flying to the ground.
“It’s alright.” Lisa said.
“I got you.” Gripping me tighter around my waist.
I held tightly to the saddle as I mounted the horse. I looked down at the ground, quickly taking notice how far away I was from it, and also realizing how badly I would hurt myself if I accidently fell from the horse. I gripped the saddle tighter that circled Benny's waist.
“You don’t have to be scared. Benny's a good boy.” Patting the horse on its back.
Miss Lisa grabbed a leather strap that was attached to the harness of each horse’s neck. As she pulled forward, each horse started trotting to walk along each side of her. Fear crept up my back and tension gripped my shoulders. I felt so uneasy on that horse. I felt like I was getting dizzy, unable to keep my balance, and about to fall off the horse’s back at any moment. I kept looking down at the ground instead of ahead of me. Before I even recognized what I had done, I parted my lips and loudly blurted, “I’m scared! I need to get off.”
Miss Lisa stopped the horses from trotting and walked over and rubbed my back.
“You’ll be alright. Trust me.”
“No, I want to get off now.” Tears filled my eyes.
I’m not sure why I was crying. I’m not sure why I was so afraid. I just knew I wanted to get off that horse right then and not a second later.
"Please now!" I screamed.
Miss Lisa grabbed my waist as she directed me to safely get down from the horse. I tipped over to the side, nearly falling as I tried to catch my balance. I blinked my eyes over and over, trying to focus my eyes through the tears.
“We better get you back to the main office where your parents are.” Mixing the salty tears and sweat as she wiped my face.
Next, she used her walkie talkie to call someone and ten minutes later, Miss Tina arrived to the stables. She grabbed my hand and told me she was going to take me to my parents, who were waiting for me in her office. More tears entered the corners of my eyes. Miss Tina squeezed my hand and asked me why I was crying. Instead of answering her, I held my breath to try to get the disappointment to back out of my system.
I looked at all the girls, who were looking at me with puzzled expressions. I waved a sad goodbye towards them. I then spotted Christie, who was standing at the end of the line. Her reddish brown skin almost matched the red dirt Where she was standing in her blue and white Addidas. She had on a snazzy, red, white, and blue short set that I hadn’t really paid attention to before that point. Sadness filled her brown eyes as she waved goodbye to me.
“Bye Angela. See you at school.” She said.
I released the air from my lungs and offered her a somber goodbye as I wiped the remaining tears from my eyes.
Miss Tina and I slowly walked to the office where my parents were waiting on me. When we arrived to the air conditioned building, I was relieved to feel the coolness of the air and to also see my smiling parents. Daddy informed me that my things were already in the car, ready to go. And the only thing they needed to get back on the road was me. I pulled my hand from Miss Tina’s hand and went to grab my mother’s arm.
Miss Tina and my parents exchanged a little conversation about the weather, the campgrounds, the traffic in Houston, and the mosquito problem in the woods. Twenty minutes later, we were riding on 59 South, headed back to Houston. My daddy asked me if I enjoyed the horseback ride.
“It was okay.” I replied.
“Just okay?” Mama asked.
I didn’t tell my parents how scared I was and that I demanded to get off the horse. And even though my parents were very perceptive when it came to each other and their four daughters, they had no idea that I had been crying right before I met them at the office.
I did, however, tell them about my fish victory. Daddy laughed and laughed when I told him how Christie threw the fish back in the water. My mother didn’t think it was quite as funny. That caused Daddy and I to laugh more.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
