Creative writing assignment for my Ad Creative Strategy course.

1. Adpr3110
10/5/12
What Sydnee Remembers
I was the artsy child, the middle child, the “Momma you don’t have to worry about me, I
got it” child. The emergency room, OCD, “I’m Sydnee with two e’s” child.Since day one, I’ve
been filled with a personality that's unimaginable by those ignorant of my existence. Hampstead
Apartments across from granny’s house filled with sister’s Barbie dolls, my drawings, and little
brother’s stains on the floor from his supposedly leak proof sippy cup. Oh the cookie jar filled
with Oreos. The merry go round that made me nauseas. And Now I lay me down to sleep.The
summers alone, just the three of us.Big wheeling down the staircase and literally experiencing
summer heat because we put each other in the dryer for fun.Getting popped on the regular for
speaking my mind.Mom giving us Band-Aids just like she did the people at her job, being on call
and waking us up at 3am to take us across the street. Everyone missing daddy being on the road
but loved the new trinkets he gave us when he came back. At the end of the day, no matter who
wasn’t home we were all together, God made it that way.
Years passed, we moved once, twice, three times but still resided in the beautifulcity on
the east coast.Now a house, our house, and everyone (even the dog) with his own room. Warm,
cool, summer nights with the family on the beach. People passed away.Family reunions
occurred. Grandma fought in wars.Knowing that I was in the south because of racial slurs and
bars and stars. Little brother and I played outside, from the driveway to the cul-de-sac, from the
break of dawn until sunset. We were the champions of neighborhood sports. Three kids, living in
society’s rare 2-parenthome, watching our parents climb the economic ladder right before our
blind eyes. Sixth grade, what a beautiful nightmare.One word -cancer.This was when mom quit
work, I missed out on life, I knew what faith was, and I met Oprah. Death thought about me.
Sister and Brother were scared. Momma and Daddy were ashamed. The family grew stronger.
Who knew that checking yes on that love note would still be yes 9 years later? Puppy love to real
love.
Then somehow music was my everything. A musical listzomaniac.I told the world about
it in the Friday night-lights, with my mace, whistle, and the band behind me. Then I told the
world even more, on the stage before my graduating class.Impossible happened in 2008. Change.
Hope. Si se puede. Constantly peer pressured by others achievements to succeed. Now I’m here.
Flag ship University of the state. Born, raised, and educated all in one place.Friends and weeks
that last forever.Busier than the president. Memories and nights forever treasured. “Go Dawgs”,
not a statement but a way of life. Then the summer, 12 years after the millennium to be exact, I
was below the equator speaking Spanish and she was above clouds speaking to God. Looking
over me, over us. Beautiful blissful butterfly. I wear her on my arm. To many eyes, I just seem
black but I remember when I became more than that. January 19, 1992. I became what I am. An
inspiration, a realist, a southerner that doesn't like tea, an activist, a survivor of cancer, a digital
native, an occasional poet, the silliest goose, the epitome of spontaneous, and a slave to
creativity.All in all, I’m just a pile of dirt that God's been good to. I remember the future and I’m
motivated by the impossible. Jesus is my homeboy.