Today as I was leaving a job that bares no resemblance to anything that I like to do I sighed and then remembered that this job is only a means to an end. But better than that I mentally went back to my childhood and the moment I knew I wanted to be a writer. I was sitting in a class room filled with no one that looked like me and reading this poem…
Mother to Son
BY LANGSTON HUGHES
Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
What I didn’t know at the time was how true this poem would come to be in my life. So as I sit here writing this post I will shallow my thoughts of despair over this job and instead rejoice at the fact that I still have the chance to realize my true potential as a writer.