In My Grandmother's House
# My Grandmother’s House, #Confidence
My grandmother has always been one of my biggest cheerleaders. A sassy individual in her own right, my grandmother who I affectionately call ‘Gia’ , has taught me confidence. She lives it everyday. From taking risk in the kitchen by creating masterpieces from leftovers, to envisioning a library for our church’s school comprised of donated books, my grandmother has always been a woman who has made it happen. She has the confidence to take action.
When I was little, my grandmother lived in a brick split-level bungalow in Chatham, a South Side Chicago neighborhood that was home to many middle-class, hard-working black people. She had a beautiful home, the living room showcased a mirrored wall of which she was very fond of. “Don’t you dare touch my mirror” she would say. I don’t know what it is about kids and touching mirrors but at age 4 and 5, I couldn’t help myself. Her mirrored wall was enchanting to me. I could become things in that mirror. I could rehearse what I wish I would have said at school that day in that mirror. I dreamed that mirror. Even more magical, was the rattan chair in her living room. I would spin around in that rattan chair for what felt like hours, humming made-up songs to myself. Every now and then my grandmother would intrude. I say that because my humming time was deeply personal, it was my safe little bubble for only me. Anytime she’d sneak in to listen, I would feel so embarrassed. But what I treasure most about those times was that my grandmother actually enjoyed my singing. She would say “ Mellie, you humming?” You sound pretty... keep going” Of course I never wanted to keep going. I would feel too exposed but the encouragement stuck. If you asked my grandmother, I could do anything.
Anytime Raven-Symone would say something cute on the Cosby Show my grandmother would say “ Mellie, you could do that!” “You want to be on TV, Mellie?” As an adult I now understand what my grandmother was doing when she was building me up. I now know that the extra supply of compliments and encouraging words was extra inventory for challenging times to come in the future. She was giving me what she knew I would need one day. That which I still need now. I thank Gia for doing that and still staying in my corner even as I continue to waiver. In the mirror of my grandmother’s house, in the chair in her living room, I can do anything.