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I remember taking my over one hour bus ride to high school. They called it busing. Busing was the codeword for the integration of urban schools. As I rode on that long bus ride, I used to sit and daydream about my life far and long away from that entire experience, knowing that I would soon see the angry people in the park with their rifles cocked and loaded waiting for us to arrive. I wondered about who I would be as I began to dream and take my far away trip to the Eiffel Tower in France where I could speak that french language I learned since middle school to people who could understand me and where I could walk through the Louvre museum in Paris. A museum filled with art. Art I read about it in books and loved to look at. It was in front of me. I could reach out and touch it. I was in love with Dutch post-impressionist art. I would often go to The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and walk through rooms filled with artwork. I had such a love for art, mostly paintings and sculptures. An Urban girl's secret fetish. I wanted to be an artist and someday have a home full of art work. Time to wake up, the bus ride is over and there are the police on one side of the street and the armed neighbors on the other side. This wasn't the south. No, this was Bayside, suburbia in Queens, New York.
Fast forward to today, I sit in my 2200 square foot 5 bedroom home with art work on the walls daydreaming once again. This time as I look out of my bay window with a view of the San Francisco bridge and write the cover page of my book. Years later, I have learned that life has many twists and turns but with faith and belief in your dreams you can come a long way.
