Just like me for me

It's now 1990. I'm forty-three years old, which would've seemed impossible to a fourth grader, and yet when I look at photographs of myself as I was in 1956, I realize that in the important ways I haven't changed at all. I was Timmy then; now I'm Tim. But the essence remains the same. I'm not fooled by the baggy pants or the crew cut or the happy smile—I know my own eyes—and there is no doubt that the Timmy smiling at the camera is the Tim I am now. Inside the body, or beyond the body, there is something absolute and unchanging. The human life is all one thing, like a blade tracing loops on ice: a little kid, a twenty-three-year-old infantry sergeant, a middle-aged writer knowing guilt and sorrow. (236)

Today, as I reflect on who I am, who I was, and who I one day may become, I realize that under all this growth, I am still the same person I was 10 years ago. I am still that little kid running through the woods, swinging on the play set, talking constantly to anything that will listen, and dreaming dreams that seem impossible to achieve. I believe that as we grow into ourselves, the compilation of our experiences in life help us refine, not redefine, who we are today. As O’Brien states, “The human life is all one thing, like a blade tracing loops on ice”. Human life is all one thing. Like the line that follows the blade we all experience ups and downs, gains and relapses. It is the essence of what we experience that is the linking point between the lives of different people, not the actual happenings in life. Our past is always with us; it is a story trail of who we have become. We cannot shake ourselves free of our past because it is the foundation of who we have become. In this aspect we are ‘absolute and unchanging’.

When I look back on the pictures hanging on my wall, I know that they are just representations of me, snapshots taken at different stages of my development. These snapshots form a collage of who I am. In one picture I am the stubborn five year old, a smiling middle schooler, a questioning toddler, a sister sharing her blanket. Lessons of appreciating people for who they are, treating them fairly, striving for what I believe in, being independent, kind, and generous, have all been instilled in me at a young age. They have become the basis for how I act today, and have been left unchanged even as I have grown. All of these aspects have formed the person I am today, and they are as concrete as any good foundation should be.

Along with these essentials that make me, me, come ever changing fads. My group of friends is constantly growing and changing, the clothes I wear today are definitely not what I would have picked out as a kid, and my physical appearance changes weekly. But these are not the things that make me who I am. They are only accessories to my self-expression. They are not experiences that are life changing or memorable, they are just fun things to take part in on the road of life. Yet, if I was to look at a picture of me as I am today, I could tell you that I still see that same stubborn little kid who wanted to learn everything about the world. My goals in life have not changed, and neither have my hopes and desires. While they may have become a bit more refined, they still hold that childish originality from which they came. As O’Brien writes, “ […] in the important ways I haven’t changed at all”. The essentials of who I am have not changed. They are stagnant, they are the foundation upon which my entire essence is built upon.

A Long Way Gone- Ishmael Beah

The war finally reached me when I was twelve years old. I knew about the war through stories, but it seemed as if it was happening in a faraway and different place. In January 1996, I realized it was closer than I ever imagined.

The first attack came with little warning. No one was prepared and families were separated as everyone ran desperately into the forest. I lost my whole family, except for my older brother, in the chaos. The two of us stuck together and, along with a few friends, we became nomads, searching the wilderness and surrounding villages for our families.

Our journey through the wilderness was full of danger and many times we were threatened by people with machetes. We had to convince them that we were only boys looking for our families, not rebels of the RUF. After many weeks of searching, sleeping in deserted camps, starvation, misery, and shame, we heard of a rumor that a there was a village where many of the people from our village went after it was attacked. Hoping to find our families, we made our way to the village. We were all full of anticipation at the thought of seeing our families, but just before we entered the village, it was attacked by rebel forces. My family was burned to death, trapped inside a house. I was so full of anger and sadness. I had traveled so far to find my family, and they were killed right in front of me. If I had only gotten there a few minutes earlier, we could have been out of the village, nice and safe together. Hatred filled my body. I wanted to avenge the death of my family. This is where my journey began.

After the death of my family, the only thing I had to live for was revenge. I was taken into the government’s army, fighting the RUF rebels. After starvation and the pain from losing my family set in, I felt the need to become part of something larger than myself. Something that could hold together and stay strong after all else had fallen apart. I planed to avenge the death of my family by killing all the rebels I could. I was brainwashed into thinking that revenge and death was the only answer to winning the war and finally coming to terms with my family’s death. I traded in my childhood for an AK-47 and the front lines. I witnessed so many other children die around me. I didn’t know why I was still alive, but I knew that I was going to fight until the end.

Then one day, a strange armored truck pulled into our village. I was in the group of boys randomly selected for the UNICEF rehabilitation. My guns were taken away from me, and I was loaded onto the truck with all the other selected boys. It felt so weird to not have a gun. Weapons had become my way of life, and I was angry to have my routine changed. I did not realize that they had saved my life. The first few months were the worst. We were not used to being treated as kids and taking orders from ‘civilians’. It took time, and lots of patience and care from the UNICEF workers, but we were rehabilitated. We learned how to be kids and enjoy life. We started school and learned how to trust people again.

Never did I think I would become a writer, but it all started in the UNICEF rehabilitation camp. I became the spokes person, proving to the world that we can become children again, we are not monsters. Speaking from the heart has allowed me to overcome my anger, and understand that my family would want me to live and be happy.

Today, I write because I realize that revenge will just lead to revenge and revenge and revenge. It is vicious on going cycle. I write to alter people’s view of society, and to show them that as long as there is fighting, there will be child soldiers. I write to bring awareness. I was one of the lucky ones, I survived. To repay my debt to those that lost their lives, I must tell the world of their courage, their suffering, and the importance to step in and stop what is happening in Sierra Leone.

I write to keep the memory of my family alive. I do not want to forget them, or forget what made me who I am today. I do not want to forget those that helped me on my way, by remembering them in my writing, I am keeping them alive, I am giving them importance.

For a while I struggled with the fact that I was the only one of my family to survive. It did not seem fair to me, I believed that I should have died with them. But I remember what my father said to me, “If you are alive, there is hope for a better day and something good to happen. If there is nothing good left in the destiny of a person, he or she will die”(54). It was my destiny to live and write about my story. We cannot go back in time, but we can remember the past and do our best to change the future.