I'm from my family, the youngest of three, the girl my mom dreamed of, after raising two mischievous boys. From jumping on the bed, fights with my brothers, and always getting my way.

I'm from Smurfs, Pound Puppies and Weekend Stories on Saturday morning. From Cabbage Patch Kids, My Pretty Ponies and Strawberry Shortcake.

I'm from climbing trees, running through the sprinkler and long afternoons at the playground.  From groups of giggling girls, passing notes in class and being too cool for school.

I'm from blue jeans, over-sized sweatshirts and dirt on my face. From soccer, softball and endless hours hitting a tennis ball against a wall.

I'm from junior high boyfriends, holding hands and my first kiss on a bus. From slumber parties, prank calls and frozen bras.

I'm from band camp, sore feet and late night pizzas. From playing the saxophone, flashy brass and sweet, jazzy notes.

I'm from Kent State University, stuffy classrooms and monotonous professors.  From dreams of becoming a teacher, hard studying and framing my diploma.

I'm from moving away, starting over and stepping into the real world. From countless applications, constant rejection and finally success.

I'm from my first classroom, dark faces gazing up at me and a clash of two cultures. From discrimination, loss of faith and resignation.

I'm from walking down that long aisle, a heavy, beaded dress and hundreds of eyes staring at my back.  From saying "I do," "I will" and "til we are parted by death."

I'm from motherhood, dirty diapers, and baby bottles. From lack of sleep, irritation and total love of my child.

I'm from abuse, divorce and returning home. From a chance at a new life, hope and exploration.

I'm from small town life, elderly parents and sleeping in my childhood bed. From the weary past, the anxious present and unknown future.

That's where I'm from.

Angela C. Orlando

Revised March 2012