I grew up as the firstborn of 7, and that by 3min (my twin died less than an hour after birth.) You can imagine, my being the oldest, That my responsibilties were abundant. I practically raised each of my five living siblings myself. I always tried to do my best, but good intentions were often not good enough. I was always acting out in school, but would always pass. About the time I turned 13, my sister attacked me, and left four scars on my legs. I'd had enough.
I left home with a duffel bag full of clothes, a sleeping bag, a tent and a teddy bear. I first went to Eugene, OR, then on to Sacramento, Hollwood and San Francisco, CA. for about 2.5 years, it was a cat-and-mouse game with running off, getting picked up on the freeway, being sent home, and eventually running off again.
I was attacked at one point, and hospitalized for a month and a half. Afterwards was kicking thedrugs I had gotten into. It was at this point that I had a very long talk with my parents, and we agreed that it was time I should no longer have to be at home.
After I left, I enrolled in an alternative learning program, and acquired my diploma in 6months. I tried enlisting in the Army, but can't hear out of my right ear, so they wouldn't let me join. I then started looking for other avenues of employment.
Mind you, I have always worked for everything I needed. Those times I had to beg, I was ashamed. I worked everything from standing on a fence with the Mexicans, to Pizza Hut, to working for my Tae Kwon Do instructor, to working at UPS and even living on a commune.
The day I turned 21, I started working at a bar in downtown Portland. I have not been homeless since. I left 6 months later to go to school for welding.
It is four years later, and I am a union shipbuilder. I bid on my own contracts. I make enough to eat and sleep. I travel to where the work is. I have never been more happy to be "vagrant".
