My childhood home in Gravesend, Brooklyn is what most stands out to me because it made me into the respectful and responsible person I am today. Where I’m from, it has taught me many morals and values. The neighborhood was quiet, and peaceful, not much of violence existed, well at least not anything that I can recall. I lived in a building right smack in the middle of family houses around it in a mostly jewish neighborhood under the F train station in McDonald Avenue.
Where I’m from, you have to keep your voice down and not make a noise because Daddy is sleeping. He wakes up mid-day, has his smoke then back to sleep again until ten, when he gets up, eats and then goes to work.
Where I’m from, you can only hear or catch a glimpse of the kids playing outside, while you’re obligated to stay inside doing chores or nothing because you’re a girl with four older overbearing brothers and a strict mom who is never home.
Where I’m from, you are six years old, taking care of a baby, while your sister and brother in law work for the rent. It’s only you with a toddler because your brothers are too lazy to do anything.
Where I’m from, dinner had to be ready at eight because mommy and sister come home exhausted from work. Sometimes food burned, then the guilt ate you alive when you realize that money is short at the age of six and a half.
Where I’m from, the long awaited laughter erupts at midnight and everything lightens up. The smell of his freshly baked bread in the morning rumbles our stomachs when Daddy comes home. He comes in with cookies and coffee also, waking up the whole family, every morning to have breakfast together. He kisses mommy, then his kids, leaving for last his little girl, to give her her favorite drink, a chocolate Yahoo.
We are the quiet family in apartment B2. No one really knows what goes on between those four walls. It’s something only family can share and have memories of in 14 Woodside Avenue, Brooklyn, N.Y.
