68) Anywhere But Here

Anywhere But Here- No Looking Back

Financial Literacy

My high school didn’t teach financial literacy.

They thought they were pretty progressive by allowing girls to take shop, and allowing boys to take home economics. In home economics, I learned how to sew a frog made of felt and stuffed with beans using a sewing machine. I learned how to hand sew a pillow, stuffed with fluff. I learned how to bake 2 kinds of cookies (and learned the importance of cookie size as our full-sheet sized cookie became a disaster. I learned how to cook an Italian sandwich that is still my eldest’s favorite. I learned how to clean a room from top to bottom including the correct way to scrub ceilings, walls, and floors. I learned how to vacuum and shampoo carpet. I learned how to clean drapes, and load a dishwasher. I learned how to organize and clean a refrigerator.

I did not learn anything in home economics about economics.

I’m not sure I would have taken a financial literacy course if they had offered it. It wasn’t something “important.”

I was never taught how to pay bills, or budget my money. With the exception of Brocade, no one had ever taught me anything about grocery shopping or stretching a buck. I wasn’t taken to work with Mom and Grandpa the way my brother and cousins were.

They treated me accessing money like something cute that women get to do now. It wasn’t something I had a right to, and nobody ever suggested that I would be supporting myself, or discussed how to access more than the bare minimum. I was taught in constant reinforcements that I didn’t deserve anything more than the bare minimum.

Nobody taught me how to ask for a raise, and I didn’t learn about resumes and interviews until much later. I just filled out applications with precise honesty, and hoped for the best. Back then, I thought they really called your references and would get access to your high school transcripts.

I had asked several times to get a bank account, and Mom told me I didn’t deserve one. I couldn’t be trusted with one. She wasn’t going to have her name on it with me.

I was never taught about saving or long term money management strategies.

The way I was raised, I could either hope to make some man love me, or stay with the family and they’d have to support me. That was their plan all along. I was never supposed to leave.

Happy Birthday to Me

The sense of relief upon leaving my mom’s house was immediate. The girls yelled out the door after me, and I felt so guilty for leaving them, but they didn’t really want me there either. They just didn’t know any better.

I got to the truck, threw my big bag in the back, and my backpack up front with us.

I was Free.

If I died 10 minutes from the, I will have died free.

I needed a complete do over, or it would all suck me in, and destroy everything.

At midnight, I bought my first legal pack of cigarettes. A and I slept in the truck that night. It was pretty uncomfortable, but I did not care. There was a shoulder to lay my head on, that actually wanted me there.

A is probably one of the purest souls I’ve ever known. He really just wanted good things for people. His parents were junkies, so nobody had ever really invested in him. He was never working an angle. He was never out to get anyone. He really just wanted to help.

I’ve always been grateful, but I don’t think I realized until right now what a gift that was.

The next morning we caught up with C, and waited at the school for K to get there. I was so nervous for her. There was a chance they wouldn’t let her come to school today.

I had to get out, but I had to get her out too.

I worked on smoking those cigarettes I had purchased hours before while we waited and caught up. Really, C was just as kindhearted as A. It felt like I entered a whole different world where people were good enough the way they were.

K was taking a while to show up, which made us pretty nervous. I decided to make a quick appearance in my sociology class to say goodbye. My teacher cried, and strangely, the class acted like they were really going to miss me. Most of them were cool kids that wouldn’t have given me the time of day before that.

I had really let my freak flag fly that semester because my teacher encouraged it so much. I’d sing a song for us to start class with each day, and they all asked for a final song of the day before I jetted.

I sang Shania Twain’s “Rock This Country,” and that was it.

I didn’t think I could feel freer than when I walked out of my house, but leaving school lightened a whole other load from my shoulders. It’s still a double edged sword though. To this day, I still have nightmares about dropping out of school, and reenrolling just to fail again. It’s a theme I revisit 4-5 times per week.

K finally made her appearance. There had been a lock down at the group home that morning, but it wasn’t about her. I was so relieved. We were together now. It felt safer, more whole.

We were very busy that day getting the cars ready, grabbing my paycheck, and getting my learner’s permit.

Mom had refused to teach me how to drive. She said driving was a privilege and I had never earned it. In adults, this would be seen as coercive control, but as my mom was fond of pointing out, nobody’s a person until they are 18.

We stopped to grab a cooler, and some essentials (Dr. Pepper), and we took off, with just my paycheck.

We decided that we were going to go to Grand Junction. I don’t remember why we settled on that, but A liked Grand Junction, and I just wanted to get as far away as possible.