𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐓 || 𝐓-𝐁𝐎𝐙

~𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞~

August 24th, 1992
12:02 p.m
Practices these past weeks has been so intense. Pebbles and the choreographer has been working our butts off. But I know it's going to be worth it. I added some of my choreography in there as well. I haven't talk to my mother in a while. I've called her and we talked but I haven't been over to the house for months. Since I've moved in Atlanta and out of the house, I haven't been taking to her in person as much. But I can talk to my mamá about anything. She's so understanding.

Since there is no practice today, I decided to go over there to talk about everything that has happened over these weeks.

I finally pulled up to my childhood home. The place where I made all of my memories, the goods ones, the bad ones, the fun ones, the ones that made me who I am today. The house still looks the same. The wooded porch to the brick walls.

I walked up the old, rusted steps and opened the screen door and knocked on the actual door. The door opened to see my beautiful mamá. People say I stole her face completely. I mean yea I look like my papá but i look like my mom more. And of course, I stole her infamous green eyes. Her face lit up as she saw me, I know her face hurt from smiling so hard. "Mamá!" I exclaimed as I hugged her tightly.  We pulled away and she just examined me. Looking at her little girl grow up into a beautiful, young lady.

"Hola Jay'mee! Te ves tan hermosa!" {you look so beautiful!}

Diana Smith-Rivera. My mother. My everything
My mother is a hard working woman. She had me when was still in college, she was 21. I know right, so young. She started dancing professionally at the age of 17. She met my dad at a record store, it was so random. But, she said that it was love at first sight. They're the cutest. My mamá is Colombian with a hint of Puerto Rican. She talks with a really thick Spanish accent, she's still struggling with English but ever since My Dad taught her, she's been getting a lot better. She's is a firework. You push her to a certain point, she's gonna explode. I get that from her.

"You look even more beautiful mamá" I said as I held her hands. She kissed my cheek softly.

"Come inside!" She said as she grabbed my hand and pulled me inside.
I looked around the living room and it still looks the same. She did a little revamping of the place and it looks nice. Pictures of me, my brother, and my sister were nicely sitting in frames on the coffee table. I smiled as I picked one up.

"You never be around here anymore." My mother said in her thick, Cuban, accent.

"I know ma but I've been busy with work and dance and other things right now."

"Oh really? So that means you don't have time for your mamá?" She said, laughing a bit.

I smacked my teeth "Now ma you know you will always come first."

"Where is papá?" As I looked around for him.

"He's out.. working." She said, while looking down.

Derrick Smith. My father.

One thing about my dad is that he is a busy man. He has always been busy since I was born. He believes in working to take care of my mamá and provide for his family. I admire the work he puts in for this family. My daddy was not playing about providing for his family. My papá is African- American. That's where I get my first language from.

"Aw man. I wanted see him!" I sat down on the velvet, red couch while looking at my mother

"Yeah well your father is a very busy man." She said, trying to smile. I could tell she was bothered by him always working. I can relate so much. Especially with Jordan..