Flying

I was a freshman at Yvonne A Ewell Townview Magnet Center, School of Education and Social Services. I lived in a home where food wasn't always a guarantee and the ground I lived on was turbulent at best. I rode the city bus to and from school, 30-45 minutes every day. I had to start early to makes sure I got my connections and got myself to school on time.

When I got to school early I would sit in the window in a giant cafeteria. Where other students would buy their lunches and get ready to start their academic endeavors of the day. My stomach growled and I seemed to often find myself in the sky. There was an airport nearby. I sat in the ledge of that window and watched as planes flew over. Imagining where they were going and the fabulous life the passengers were living.

One day . . . I said to myself . . . One day that will be me.

And here I am sitting on a plane, flying from the West Coast to the East. My second flight of the month. This time a trip for work, last, a vacation to Costa Rica.

The lines and restrictions. The hurry up and wait. The lack of leg room and smelly recycled air. All gifts that come with the ability to transverse the country and across oceans.

A gift for the girl who shouldn't be alive. Who should have never made it out of poverty. As I look out into the clouds surrounding me I am overwhelmed by the reality that my life is a gift of travel. The thing I never imagined could really happen as I sat in that high school window. Broken, defeated and hopeless. Inches away from my own death.

And yet here I am. I have taken the long road and have missed out on a lot. But I have worked hard and taken giant risks. Sometimes I ask how I got so lucky and sometimes the answer is I made my own luck. With a little help from God of course!