Adolescence
The next house was our home for seven years, the longest we stayed in one place up to that point. With Dad out of prison and visiting regularly, family life started to settle into a comfortable rhythm. I started junior high school, my youngest brother started kindergarten, and Mom was less stressed out. Eventually, Dad was released from the halfway house and returned home. The Christmas he was gone was quite a pleasant surprise for us kids because a local nonprofit greeted us unexpectedly one morning bearing gifts. We had a festive holiday even without the tree Dad usually chopped down at a mountaintop Christmas tree farm. I still wonder how the nonprofit knew of our predicament; however, I’m grateful for their generosity and their mission.
Making a circle of friends was much easier in seventh and eighth grades once we stopped moving nearly every school year. The new home became a welcoming retreat for all three of us kids and our friends over the seven-year span. One day I received a call from a family friend asking whether we wanted a dog. This feisty Chihuahua puppy became a member of our household at two months of age and bonded with me most strongly. We were inseparable playmates the 14 years she was alive.
While junior high passed uneventfully, I started struggling sophomore year of high school; my grades slipped, and I found the competitive nature of my fellow students unbearable. Fortunately, there was solace in running: first for the varsity cross-country team, and then for the track and field team. I didn’t know it at the time, but aerobic exercise such as running is good for brain and heart health. What did wonders for me was being introduced to local trails in the foothills. Spending time outdoors convening with nature rejuvenated me and staved off what I believe were the depressive features that would later manifest as serious mental illness in my 20’s.
As part of a cohort piloting a new, early college program between the high school district and community college system, I rediscovered a love for learning and flourished academically. It was a relief socially to leave the pressure cooker environment of high school behind; I was finally able to pursue my interests in art and humanities without shame.
Shortly before high school graduation, I decided to enroll in Art Center College of Design’s evening program the following Fall, with the ambition of becoming an illustrator whose work would be featured on the covers of esteemed publications such as Time Magazine. Oh, the arrogance of youth.
The summer following graduation, my friends and I were readying ourselves for college. Most of my circle went to Southern California, while others stayed in Northern California. Because Art Center didn’t have student housing, my parents and I decided on a room in a house about half an hour from the Pasadena campus. Unbeknownst to me, it would be the start of a supercharged social process that had me aging from age 17 to 35 in the span of four years. Being among the few teenagers in the Illustration department, and the college in general, was exceedingly lonesome. It differed from concurrent enrollment because I was no longer living at home and had to navigate life without the social and economic support of dormitories. However, my best friend and I were both in Pasadena; her experience at California Institute of Technology offered glimpses into undergraduate life at a residential university.