In high school with a toddler, that isn't mine.

While other children my age returned to their family homes after school, I went home to an apartment to cook, clean, do my homework and be a “good girlfriend” to a man. There were many times I felt like my life was amounting to nothing. However, somehow, I never allowed myself to fall deep into an emotional hole. Others were depending on me, and there was no time to be selfish.

My brothers started getting into trouble. They would soon do time in juvenile prison for crimes far greater than petty. Mother was doing her thing, which didn’t include helping her children. One day my sister came over to my apartment with her toddler son. She was different. She was now drinking and smoking cigarettes. It was clear that life had its hold on her, and she was both fighting and embracing it at the same time. She asked if she could stay with me for a few days, and of course I said yes. It wasn’t clear what was going on with her, and I didn’t ask. I had school work to focus on.

One day I woke up to get ready for school and my sister was gone, but her son was still there. I had no way of contacting her and I couldn’t miss school, nor did I want to. School, somehow, was still my bright spot. And I wanted to hold on to it. So I packed him up, put toys and food in a small bag and took him to school with me. I had no idea how I would negotiate this, but I had to try. When I got on campus, everyone stared at me. Some of them knew I lived in my own apartment, but wondered where this child came from. I didn’t care what the other students thought, I was well past that, but I would need the help of all of my teachers if I was going to stay on top of things. Before the start of each class I would approach the teacher and explain the situation in the most compassionate way. I was a good student, and I needed to make it. So, instead of reporting it to authorities, they encouraged me. Each day, in every class, my nephew would sit on the floor next to my desk to play with his toys, eat and nap. Some stared, but my teachers were proud. They saw my determination and my willingness to help, so they protected me.

My sister? Well, she was out chasing a man in another city. I didn’t hear from her for weeks. Somehow, the further I tried to get away from my mother, she kept reappearing in my sisters.