Hi everybody! Hope you’re all having a great summer so far!

I’ve been doing a little writing lately and I’ve got a draft to share. =) I was really hungry when I wrote this one, so I came up with this idea where I’d compare myself to sweet potato stew. (I swear it’s not as weird as it sounds, it’ll make a lot more sense when you read it.)

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There’s a large, empty pan on the stove that’s scalding hot. My mother turns on the stove and the fire is low. Meanwhile, my father picks up a bottle of olive oil, which is the basis of my beginning. He pours it gently onto the base of the pan. Here, this pan patiently awaits a splendid dish that is about to be cooked by the two greatest chefs I’ve ever known.

My father peels a huge sweet potato, which signifies my own existence. After I’m peeled, I am diced up into several cubes. Though each piece is physically apart, they all still share the same soul, the same texture, and the same nutrients. My mother chops up the onions, the scallions and the garlic of my siblings. They are the vegetables that give me taste; the ones who help me develop from raw baby potatoes to cooked and flavored sweet potato stew. My mother throws them into the pan of life to cook for several minutes. I am thrown in afterwards to be fried and stirred among the others.

My father scoops out two teaspoons of molasses to mix into the pot. They are my grandparents, who have the ability to enhance the savory sweetness of me in this dish. They bring out my best qualities and enhance my strengths. When I’m with them, I am at ease.

After a thorough mixture, my parents pour in about a cup of hot water. Three spoons of my education are added into the pot, which is a hot and spicy curry powder from Guyana. With the addition of each spoonful I can feel the increase in flavor and the change of aroma. I absorb the information like a sponge.

But there’s one particular ingredient in the curry powder that I love the most, and that’s ginger. Ginger is the subject of English, which is what I’m passionate about. It is the secret ingredient helps me to become the person that I am today. My originality shines brightly through my writing. It is that simple aspect that gives me the opportunity to show the world who I really am.

The sweet potatoes are lightly stirred along with the other ingredients for a few seconds, and then the spices are included. The salt, black pepper, paprika, geera and cinnamon are the friends and acquaintances who add more excitement to my life. They support and inspire me in ways I could’ve never imagined. They’re my second family.

I continue to cook among these fascinating ingredients and I can feel myself undergo a major change. I develop into a unique and tasty stew that’s impatient to get out of the pot and be served to the world. However, I’m not quite done yet.

To make the food extra spicy, a few peppers are added to the stew, but it feels like torture. I grow uneasy as these peppers are mixed in; these are the people who hate, bully and discourage me. But within a few minutes, these peppers begin to lose their power. I learn that these peppers only add to the spicy, steaming, savory pot of me.

The lid of the pan is finally placed and I cook. I take this time to meditate, to learn, to reflect on my past.

I think of the future, of the vegetables and the seasoning that I have yet to experience. Of my final debut on the platters of friends and family, of foes and strangers. I may be too seasoned or spicy for some. Or I may not be flavorful enough for others. But regardless of what qualities people may try to add or take away, those bits of me will always be the same.

Feel free to give your honest feedback, and thank you so much for taking the time to read this!

P.S: I definitely need to start checking this blog more often!