I want to thank all the people who commented on this layout. It touches me that you all have been so caring and compassionate. When I created this scrapbook, I did not expect anyone to read it beyond my family. I wasn't even sure that anyone would read it. But I wanted to represent the world that I lived in as a child and showing it now is a way for me to invite people to be compassionate when you see a child in trouble. I will answer the question that several have asked about my relationship with God now. Yes, I now know that God was indeed with me through all my life. It was just impossible to see it then. And God has blessed me with everything that I need. My life is wonderful now. I am married to a retired Lutheran Pastor. I believe that God kept me here to be a writer and my mission is to be the voice of women and children who live on the fringes without love and protection.
I was poor growing up, too. I also worked in the kitchen to get a discount on lunches, and had donations from churches for gifts. This lo is so sad. I agree that without the journaling we would have no idea what the pictures represented to you. I think everything is really well laid out. The neutral colors work well with the mood of the lo. My only suggestion would be to make another lo with all your feelings now. I think it's good that this one was consistently sad because it conveys how you felt then. It leaves me wondering where you're at now. (Have your feelings toward God changed? Looking back would you trade being poor for being rich? Do you appreciate everything now more than you would have if you lived differently? Has your childhood inspired you to do something for others? If your feelings toward God have changed, has it made you want to live it every day instead of just at Christmas? etc.) For example, I have a lo in my gallery called "Praise You in this Storm". It's about my infertility. The title is from a song that has really touched me. If I ever do have a baby I am going to make another lo, "After the rain" which is another song. This way I will have documented full circle in a way that flows well. You did really well telling your story. You must be a good writer, because it has left me wanting to know even more. :)
I appreciate, as will your posterity, how frankly you have told this story that could not have been read in the photographs. Our pasts makes us who we are and influences who we become in the future. Sharing our trials and adversities helps others become aware of the harsh realities that many face, and better understand us as individuals. I always thought my Grandma was very coarse, unloving, and strict, but when I learned of the things she experienced in life I finally understood why those character traits emerged so readily. I was able to love and appreciate her so much more after that. I like that you used different font sizes for various aspects of your journaling to bring out what you felt to be main parts. I also really like how you created the setting in the first 2 lines of journaling before telling about the accident. It brings the reader right into the moment, feeling as if they were you, or right there witnessing it. Then they feel the rest of the journaling so much stronger because of this intro. It is also very effective in showing the contrast between the carefree moments of childhood that peek out occasionally and the painful day to day realities caused by both the accident and your difficult life situation. I like how you structure your sentences in various ways so that every sentence doesn't begin with I, We, My, etc. Occasioanlly using the passive voice, and introducing your sentences with "then" "when" "fortunately" "sometimes" etc. makes it much easier on, and more enjoyable for the reader. Very effective and to the point journaling.
The symetrical design of the Lo works very well too, very easy on the eye. I love how you used the same black check pattern in your embelishments that is on the two different dresses in both pics. I also like how your title splits both pages evenly. Great job.
I wish the kids I used to work with could read your story. I appreciate the honesty and simplicity with which you told about the suffering you went through as a child, but the thing that most stands out for me is the moment everything changed for you, when you started working for your food and earning your own self-respect (and that of others). I used to work with kids in foster care (the extremely damaged kids who needed extra support) who could really have used the example of how resilient you were. Have you ever studied Frieda Kahlo? She's a Mexican surrealist painter who suffered a similar injury to yours at about the same age. I wondered if you might be interested in her story (there's a beautiful art book/biography out, and the movie _Frieda_ came out a year or two ago).
I love the physical placement of all your elements on the page. The two photos are really excellent where they're placed, and frame your anecdotes very well. The colors are great -- very reminiscent of grade school, with black and white ink on that slightly yellowed paper. Your journaling is very strong. The final quote, that God doesn't love you, reads like a conclusion because of the placement and the point face of the words. Is that what you intend? I can see it in the voice of your 14 year old self... but much of the rest of your page represents your older self reflecting back, and you may have a different conclusion now that you would ultimately be happier with showcasing in the most prominent spot. While I really like the inclusion of your report card, both for the comments and for the lines it provides, I agree with ChandraLa that I'm not sure exactly how it applies to your page theme. It seems to me to apply more to the "remarkably resilient kid" conclusion than the "God couldn't possibly love me" one.
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I keep thinking, "it takes a lot of heat and pressure to make a diamond." This will be a remarkable scrapbook.
Many things come to mind after reading your journaling, and I'm not sure I can accurately translate my thoughts.
I think that your writing is very frank and honest, which is lacking when it comes to traditional scrapbook pages. I think that it will open doors to a new way of transcribing history in a way that is more detailed than an old sepia tinged photo with written dates and a family tree. I have to say that I don't see your story in your photos. You don't even see the story in the report cards you added to your pages. Your journaling adds necessary depth to the photos that one would not expect. It gives a more accurate picture of the past. I can't tell from your writing whether you are religious today, but it doesn't matter. I don't read a lot of bitterness in your tone, which would easily be expected. It sounds straightforward and yet still has the questioning spirit of a child without sounding trite. I was taken with the change in your journaling, I wasn't expecting the turn. It began with a childhood injury, then flowed into a question of the school system and "good women". I like how your journaling ended. Your story is very reminiscent of my mother's and my family's. It struck a chord with me, and it has left me thinking and a bit speechless.
Anyway, without babbling on anymore, I wanted to thank you for posting this.
The journaling of this layout is so honest and forthrite. You are a wonderful writer, and I can almost imagine to feel the pain you went through as a child. You didn't sugar-coat anything, and you wrote what you felt, and that makes your layout so touching and meaningful. Thanks for sharing, you did a great job! :)
Ilene, this LO is well designed and put together and your journaling style is well crafted and comes from your heart...well done :).
After reading your journaling, my heart breaks for the childhood you experienced, but I rejoice in the fact that you are now a grown woman and can see life from an adult perspective. Without changing topics here, may I say that I hope and pray that you will one day understand that GOD did indeed have a hand in your upbringing, but not in the way you described in the LO. Just the fact that you survived and are here today to share this touching LO with all of us is a testament to a loving and merciful GOD.
Hugs 2U - kimB
Ilene, I love your journaling! It brings me to tears! You are indeed a wonderful writer and I'm sure your loved ones will treasure this! Thank you for sharing this with us.
what beautiful journaling you have here, I almost wanted to cry. I too was poor growing up. You are leaving a scrapbook that the next 10 generations will read and wonder. Wonderful job.
IT’S HARD TO BE GOOD WHEN YOU ARE LIVING THE HARD LIFE *** In early August, 1960, I was in West Coxsackie sharing a bicycle with my sister and another girl, who owned the bike. It had been raining and we were glad to be outside. I was turning the bike around when both girls started shouting and pointing above my head. I looked up, but never saw the dead branch— heavy with rain— that fell from the tree above and hit me in the forehead, knocking me and the bike to the ground. It fractured my skull and jaw and caused my brain to swell, which put me in a coma for 8 days. When I came out of the coma, I had a blood clot behind my right eye and had amnesia. There were also injuries to my neck and shoulders, which the doctors treated as non-critical because they were not sure I would survive. I started the 5th grade with tape wrapped around my skull. My hair had been shaved. There was also a band of tape around my chest and a strap connecting it to my head in the back, to keep my head erect. I wore this skull cap for several months. When it came off, my hair was a terrible mess. People who knew me well thought I was a boy because my hair was so short. When I was 11, and again when I was 13, I had surgery on my neck and shoulder to repair damage from that accident. We were unable to establish who owned the tree that nearly killed me, and no one paid for the hospital bills that came from the accident. I needed physical therapy, but we had no money for it. I have been plagued by stiff neck since then. From age 10-14, I spent at least a week in the hospital each year. *** How could the school not see that I needed help? *** My stepfather brought home squirrels for us to eat. He said they were just rats with fluffy tails, which made it even harder to eat them. My mother refused to go to the welfare office to ask for food, afraid they would take her kids away. So most of the time, we had to eat whatever we had. Sometimes, the only thing we had to eat was powdered eggs that came in giant cans, as if they emerged from a World War II bomb shelter. I hated those eggs more than I hated eating rats. Local churches sent food baskets to our house at Christmas, but it only lasted for a short while, and soon we were back to not having enough to eat. The church people told us that God loves us, but I noticed that they only came down into our neighborhood once a year. We would be hungry all year, except at Christmas, if it was up to them. Fortunately, it wasn’t. The women in the school cafeteria heaped extra portions onto my tray. The other children noticed and some even derided me for being such a beggar. I’m pretty sure that some of these mean children belonged to the good Christian ladies that visited our house at the holidays, because some of them had pointed out to me that the clothes I was wearing were their old clothes. Maybe these kids believed what they heard at church, that God loves us all, but somehow thought they deserved to be loved and I didn’t. It was a mystery to me how I could somehow have come to deserve this. Had I committed some kind of spiritual crime and this was my punishment? The best I could figure, it had something to do with being illegitimate. Maybe God was like my earthly father—maybe he only loved his legitimate children. In the 5th grade, I started cleaning pans to pay for my food. The kitchen ladies seemed to respect me and I respected myself more, knowing that I had earned my food. *** I worked for food while other children ate for free. *** Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. *** They told me at church God loves me, but they must be wrong. He wouldn’t give this kind of life to someone He loves. *** to learn more about this layout, please visit my blog at: http://www.scrapbook.com/blogs/103778/view/20494.html ***
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