Oh Reading Rainbow, if you didn’t do anything else; you gave a little poor girl in the Mississippi Delta hope and the courage to be a little different from everyone else. I grew up on mostly dirt road (there are some sections that are paved) with the nearest neighbor my age about 1/2 mile away. So, much like the title character in Mary Hoffman’s, “Amazing Grace”, my days relied heavily on my imagination. I would walk around the woods, searching for hidden treasure left by Native Indians. I would dig for dinosaur fossils. The fishpond levees would become a race track to race for a million dollars. The tree branches would give the best vantage point to fight imaginary enemies; their leaves camouflaging me from “bullets”.
In her story, Grace has an intense love for stories of all sorts. Fully emerging herself into each story, she re-enacts the most exciting characters and their stunts using anything available. With a little enchantment and creativity, Grace could turn a teapot into a magic lamp. Her stool becomes a peg leg; a blanket becomes a cape. Even her mother and grandmother become props for Grace when reliving these wonderful stories! With her imagination, Grace could be anyone she wanted and household items could be magic!
One day, at school, though, Grace’s classmates diminished her hope and lust for life. The school would be re-creating the play “Peter Pan” and Grace knew she wanted to play the lead role! But her classmates cruelly pointed out that Grace was different that what they thought Peter Pan should be. “You can’t be Peter Pan. He’s not a girl,” one classmate yelled. Yet Grace kept her hand up to audition for the play; and her chin held high as other classmates chimed in. “Natalie says I can’t be Peter Pan because I’m black,” a disheartened Grace cried to her family that afternoon, recapping how her classmates crushed her Peter Pan dreams of flying over the entire school.
Was her family angered by the children’s coldness towards Grace? Sure. But anger only stifles one’s dreams; and Grace was just too amazing to be stifled. Her Nana took her to a play to show her that anyone can reach their dreams. Just as Grace dreamed of being Peter Pan, Rosalie was a little girl from Trinidad who dreamed big; and now she had the starring role in Romeo and Juliet. After the ballet, Grace danced around her room, in her imaginary tutu, reminding herself that she can, in fact, be anything she wanted. Of course, on Monday’s class auditions, no one could deny Grace’s talent and energy. Everyone, even those that doubted her at first, voted for Grace to be Peter Pan.
I was much like Grace growing up. I would hop on my yellow banana seat bike and head for the horizon, in search of new adventure around Cole Lake. And also like Grace, there was always some nay-sayer ready to extinquish any hopes and dreams I had because my visions for a fruitful future didn’t fit in with Mississippi Delta standards. I wanted to be a writer and travel. I wrote poetry. I was enticed by anything and everything that sat outside the realm of acceptance or broke the mold.
“You have no direction.” That’s what a man once told me. “Yes I do! Today, I’m going to Greenville. And from there, I’ll figure it out!” I stamped back. The truth is, I never had any direction; and I didn’t want it. The idea of floating around the world and emerging myself in all the different cultures and ways of life was the only thing that appealed to me. I knew there was so much more beyond the corn fields and fish ponds; and I wanted to try it all. Being from a traditional Southern small town, this ideology was not embraced; and certainly not encouraged. Needless to say, I had bullies at school; and bullies at the family dinners. But my mama always encouraged me. I remember once when she was in the hospital; and we were settling down as best as we could for the night, she looked over at me and said, “write me a poem.” I wrote a poem titled, “What’s My Name” that night for her. A year later, that poem won a National Poetry Contest.
Fast-forward 40+ years and here I am. Back in the Mississippi Delta and back with some of the ghosts of my childhood. Did all my wild dreams come true? No. But there were some wild adventures I’ve been on. I’ve done more than what baby Tracy ever really thought was possible. I’ve had friends from different lands far away, who practiced different religions. I’ve kissed on a mountain top. I’ve caught a shark in the ocean (it was a baby Hammerhead but it still counts). I’ve gone parasailing in Cancun. I’ve nosedived in a plane during an air show. I’ve been to prestigious dinner parties with the rich. I’ve met some famous people. I’ve shot pool in dive bars. I’ve sipped wine with the finest of ladies who turned out to be snakes in the grass; and shot whiskey with the scariest of men; who turned out to be big Teddy Bears. I’ve celebrated Easter Sunday on the wrong side of the tracks. I’ve celebrated the New Moon topless in the woods. I’ve rung in the New Year by myself. I’ve ridden a train cross-country alone. I’ve gone to a Big Foot Hunt! I’ve had tattoos. I’ve had piercings. And I’ve had children; my greatest adventure of all.
I’ve maintained my “Try anything once” mindset through every aspect of my life. And when my marriage crumbled; I clung to that motto to get me through. I was different than the typical Delta girl. I knew that growing up; and was reminded of it constantly. But now that I’m older; now that we are all older, my difference is embraced more than rejected. I may not have written the best-seller I envisioned. But I have lived; and I have feverishly eaten every little crumb this crazy and beautiful world has left for me. I’ve learned to be proud. I’ve learned to be humble. I’ve learned to be kind. Most importantly, I’ve learned that we all were once just little kids staring out the window, eager to break free and find an adventure.
We don’t all have to look alike; or fit into a specific mold. We don’t all have to share the same idea of success and failure. It’s our differences that make us special and provides us the ability to put our own special spin on things. Just as Grace’s classmates quickly learned in Amazing Grace, there’s a little Peter Pan in all of us if we are just brave enough to let it show and have one person in your camp encouraging you to be yourself!
Lessons Learned From The Rainbow 