The prompt was "My autobiography written in the year 2030."
Everything from before the GAMES paragraph is true.
It is really quite lame but ENJOY!
Adelia Fish;A Future Autobiography
For my loving family, my past, the future and Johannes
Gutenberg.
This is big. 1
in 8 babies born in the 90’s were to a teenage mother. 12% of all pregnancies
in the U.S are preterm. One in ten premature babies develop a lifelong
disability. An estimated 365,500 house fires are reported each year in the US.
Only approximately 1.1% of all cancer patients were diagnosed under the age of
20. Nearly 5.6 out of 100,000 white men die of brain or nervous system cancer. Cancer
is the second leading cause of death in the US and accidents are the fifth. Only
about 11% of MIT applicants get accepted. 839 individuals and 24 organizations
have received the Nobel Prize up until this year. I am more than just a
statistic on fact sheet or words on a page but this is what I will be
summarized as. To prevent that from being the only thing I am, I am writing my
story. Not all of it, for there will never be enough time or lines on a page to
tell it all. This is merely the big stuff in 26 letters or less. This is my silly
human life in words and not statistics. I hope you learn and remember anyways.
I was born; everyone
is. I, unlike everyone, was born extremely premature to Laura Lee Fish in 1995.
I was born 27 weeks early and only had to be hospitalized for two days. My mom
was 20 at the time and not ready for a child, especially one like me. But she would
get used to it. She has given me the best childhood she could, loved me and
tried to understand me. I have a brother and sister both born to different moms
around the same time as me: Tisa and Alex. My dad was alright. He was a better
man than father. He worked with mentally impaired adults at night and as well
during the day at another job. He has called me almost every week since I was six. Though
my mom and dad were not the best of friends I have never heard them snub the
other. I’m grateful for that.
Kindergarten
is one of the most important grades in school. It was especially so for me. I
had a lot of first in my lovely years of five to six. The first day of
kindergarten I met my first friend. Her name was Amber and she had Goldie’s
locks. She taught me what friendship and being shy were; she was the first kid
I saw on open house so, I waved to her and shouted “HI!” from only two feet
away. She hid behind her mom but after that we were friends. A majority of my
kindergarten firsts happened at my Grandma’s wedding. I have to look back on
that week, yes a week long wedding experience, as my introduction into life and
grownups. That wedding was the place where I first lost a tooth; during the
cutting of the cake might I add. First wedding I went to and the first time I
was in one. First time I used a hot glue gun. First time I ever burnt myself
with a hot glue gun. I got my first tool box there. I saw my first group of drunken
adults. First time I ate Frosted Mini Wheats. First time I watched The Mask.
First time I met a lot of relatives. And it was the first time I rode a plane.
I was by myself and had to learn to deal with strangers and my ears popping.
Holy cow, I hate that.
After
my grandma’s wedding my house caught on
fire. It was the middle of the night and I was sound asleep. Our fire
alarm
didn’t go off. My mom woke up from the smell and asked my grandpa if he
had
been smoking. He said no. Mom went into
my room and made me crawl to the front door. The fire was under the
house and
nothing and no one were harmed but I got really attached to the idea of
being a
firefighter, of saving people. Less than a month later, 9/11 happened.
That was
the first time I really realized that sometimes bad things happen and I
can’t
do anything about them. It was my little kid wake up call. That
Christmas in my
letter to Santa I asked for at least one parent for all of the kids who
lost
theirs in 9/11 so that there wouldn’t be any more orphans. Obviously
Santa
didn’t grant my request but that also helped me learn. The next year my
aunt Melody
died. That was more unreal then Santa. As a second grader I didn’t
really
understand the idea of her never coming back. She had been sick for a
while
with a degenerate disease but no one in my life had ever died before. I
didn’t even cry at her funeral because she
wasn’t dead yet. She was weird because of her disease and I didn’t
understand
everything she did but we loved each other. She taught me the "More
Ice-cream" song and let me play with her special chairs. She spoiled
me. And she couldn’t be gone. Eventually it did
sink in that I would never see her again. No one would ever see her
again and
that hurt. But everyone has to learn that Santa isn’t real and tragedy
happens.
I think that I learned a little early.
Two years
later my mom and I moved to Maine to live with my grandparents. She couldn’t
find work were we lived and I think she also wanted a change of pace. Saying
she was used to moving around a lot would be a major understatement. We left a
lot of our stuff in our old house with my grandpa to get later. A week after we
settled into Maine I got a kidney infection and had to be hospitalized for a
week. My third grade class wrote me a ton of get well cards even though they
didn’t know me. It was weird. How someone could just lie astounded me. They
didn’t genuinely want me to feel better; they were forced to make me cards and
it didn’t help. I understood the idea of caring for a stranger but I don’t
think they did. A while after I got out of the hospital. My old house went up
in flames. It wasn’t like the last fire. My grandpa’s two cats, the whole
house, my rose garden and a lot of memorable paraphernalia burnt up. It sucked.
I was so angry that this could keep happening. I didn’t want to be a
firefighter anymore. It seemed like a crap job. But I still thought they were
awesome for saving my grandpa and risking their lives like they did.
My uncle Levi
was the coolest guy I have ever met. Granted he was kind of a jerk but he was
young and he was never mean to me. He loved me so much. He introduced to me to
video games. We played this one on the Nintendo 64 where you had to hop around
and eat fruit and kill things. I still, to this day, cannot remember the name
of it. He played football and had tons of girlfriends over the years but he was
still there for family time. He used to tease me and tickle me. We would play
with Legos for hours, building all sorts of cars and castles. He was so funny.
He could make absolutely anyone laugh. When he was 20 he moved to Texas to get
his act together a year before he died.
When I was in
the fifth grade he decided to go to college. After a struggle with his high
school he was finally on his way to orientation. On the way there he somehow
lost control of the car. It flipped six times and he crashed. He died on
impact. There was “no pain.” I will never forget the day I found out he died.
Everyone was quiet and sad. I didn’t have the guts to ask what was going on. I
knew it was bad. I heard my grandpa talking on the phone and say my uncle’s
name. We all went on the porch and I found out. My aunt was at school or work
or something and they asked her to come home. As she walking down the hill
toward the porch she asked what was wrong. She saw us crying. She found out.
She screamed and I cried. I have never heard a more anguished noise than her
scream. I never want to hear that again. We all moved down to Georgia after
that.
I never
realized that I was bullied as a kid until 6th grade. There was this kid, who
was fatter than me by the way, who called me pregnant almost every day. He was
a butt and I was sensitive. It hurt me pretty badly. I didn’t have many friends
and I had low self esteem. I did not need that kid making it worse. That year I
took the gifted test. The gifted test is a test to see if you think differently
than other kids and if you should be placed in “smarter” classes. Mr. Ebbits,
the test giver, said I got some of the highest scores he’d ever seen. My mom
still brags about it. Oh my stars, does she like to brag. It’s honestly the
most annoying habit of hers but it’s probably a good thing that bragging is her
worst habit. Once I got into gifted classes in 7th grade things got tons
better. I was no longer bullied or as bored. We didn’t have anything like
gifted at my old schools. “Smarter” kids just got to do cool things that the
other kids didn’t like a reading group and some science-y/math-y games. Gifted
classes were awesome. I didn’t realize how much bullying sucked until it was
out of my life. Gifted kids are so much more accepting. We kind of have to be.
We were THE weird and smart folks of the school.
Around my 6th
and 7th grade years I tried out church. My family believes in God but for the
most part aren’t church goers. At first I loved it. I “found” Jesus Christ and
it was fantastic. I worshiped, I want to church, youth group, and FCA. But then
I “lost” that particular faith. I began questioning church, the bible,
followers and religion in general. I found that, though I hope something is out
there and though I pray, I prefer to do religion on my own and not in a group
setting. I found that if I am going to pin myself to one religion than I am
going follow every single rule of that religion. There is not a religion whose
every single ideal and rule I can follow. I found that I am not a believer or
church goer. I am a single prayer and one-on-one with a higher power kind of
gal. That’s the way that I found I like it, an open non-religiously religious
prayer.
Near the end
of my 7th grade school year one of my best friends and first boyfriend got a
brain tumor. They were all so sure it wouldn’t be cancerous. It was. They were
so sure once they took out the tumor it would go away and not come back. It
didn’t. He got three more cancerous tumors, and he died August of my 10th grade
year. We all knew it was coming, but it still hurt. He had been suffering and
fighting for his life for two plus years and he just died. His name was Nicodemus Patrick but everyone called him Nick.
When I met him
he had longer-than-the-style black hair and wore elastic waist band pants. He
was a weird kid. I mean he was weirder than me at the time and he didn’t care
what others thought. He was smart too. We met in my first gifted class. He was
lame and I didn’t like him. He was a meany and he was weird. I didn’t want to
know him. But I’m so glad we did. We got into a fight, a teacher wanted to get
him in trouble, I stood up for him and took double the punishment because of my
do good-er act he didn’t find me so bad and nor I him. Then we were friends. We
dated for a little while, well for what counts as dating in middle school. He
took me on my first date ever. We went
to see Harry Potter; his mom and sister sat 5 rows in front of us. It was sweet
and perfectly us. When he got sick I was the friend he could count on to get a
laugh and not treat him like a kid with cancer, even though it hurt me I did
this for him. I smiled and laughed for him. Nick loved humor. He made fun of
everyone and everything. He had my kind of humor just with a little more an
edge. He loved his hair and mustaches. When he lost his hair to chemo he kept
it in a bag. Like I said, he was weird. But that’s one of the characteristics we
liked about him. He has a charity that he created before he died to help cancer
families and he participated in Art for Heart. He was kind, mean, weird, and
funny. He was the ultimate teenage boy and I loved him. There will never be
another Nick.
Losing him was
the most painful thing that has ever happened to me. I got depressed. I didn’t
understand how I could keep losing everyone. People, family and friends are
what make up our lives. When we lose someone, in anyway, it hurts. Who are we
without them? What would our lives be without others? I couldn’t grasp it. If
not for school my story could have gone very differently but I couldn’t let my
sadness and desperation take over my goals: To save the world and be a good
mother. I cried, and I hurt but I kept moving. I didn’t move on for a long
while but like in that old Disney movie: I kept moving forward.
Later that
year I was having an Reeses version of a rough patch with school; I no longer
liked it. I hated writing more than anything, and I kept having to write. What
balanced it out was the discovery for my love of math. Math doesn’t make you
think; Writing does. I didn’t want to think in a writing sort of way and the
fact that I’m a notoriously bad speller didn’t make me love it. Now don’t get
me wrong, math involves thinking. It doesn’t, however, make you sort out
thoughts the way writing and having a conversation do. In math you can jump
steps and go where the numbers do. In life there are less logical rules. I
thought I was good at math and I liked it, almost as much as reading. That’s
when I decided how I was going to save the world. I was going to save the world
in ten digits or less.
At the end of
the year I had biology. Now I had in 7th grade so I knew the basics but we went
more in-depth. In that class I had an idea that would change the world. I wanted
to make it so that humans could derive consumable energy from the sun. I was
going to make a photosynthesis machine or injection. I was going to end world
hunger and make a backup plan for crops. I was going to revolutionize the way
we lived. I was going to save the world.
In the next
two years I finished of high school and my associate’s degree at a special enrollment
program called GAMES. It stands for BLAHHBLAKHASLHS. It was perfect for me and what I wanted to do. I was
so excited and nervous during the enrollment process. What if I didn’t get in?
What if I did? My best friend was trying to get in too, and we supported each
other. When I got in I was so happy. My family and I went out for dinner, which
we never did. GAMES was great. At first it was weird having to live with
strangers. I had never done it before and was scared that one of them might
cause trouble, but I got over that pretty quick. We bonded and set up room
rules. No trouble. I met lots of great people there and it gave me an edge on
my career and the whole saving the world thing. It was harder than high school
but I got over that pretty quick too. It was far less annoying and more
educational than high school. I loved it. It was the environment I needed. If I
hadn’t of gone to GAMES I'm sure I still would have made out great but GAMES helped
me get to where I wanted to go. I made lots of connections, learned plenty of
life lessons and it put the path for my future in concrete and not just a goal.
After
graduation I headed to Massachusetts to live on my very own as a legal adult. It
was surreal. I was glad to see snow but even gladder to be going to my dream
school: the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Ever since I realized I
loved math, and wanted to work with it, I wanted to go to MIT. They have, in my
very biased opinion, the best math programs in the country. In between earning
my bachelor’s degree and working at the worst job ever I met Herman
Shnickfilster Von-field. He was quiet and far too smart for his own good. He
would come to be my main partner in creating consumable solar energy and my
best friend. During my time at MIT I also learned a very important life lesson:
everything is a choice even when you think you cannot live with one option. It
is still an option. When I turned 20 I considered myself a real grown up
because I no longer had “teen” stuck to the back of my age. How wrong I was.
You never really grow up just older.
While working
as the first person in my family to get their master’s and consulting for lobby
groups (to pay the bills), Herman and I started to develop a more concrete
concept of consumable solar energy. We reached into our contacts and pulled out
our team. We would work with them, losing and adding some along the way, for
the next ten years. It was a labor of love but we, Herman and I, were in it to
win. And oh baby, did we ever.
On the way of
getting my doctorate and creating a radical machine with the best team ever, I
fell in love. No it wasn’t Herman but it was still a cliché romantic ordeal. We
met unexpectedly and boom! Hook, line, and sinker. I was on my way to met with
a partner when I got hungry. I stopped at my favorite snack place, Dunkin’
Donuts, and attempted to order my favorite snack: a coffee cake muffin and
small strawberry Coolatta. I was unsuccessful. The guy ahead of me had just
ordered the last coffee cake muffin. He kindly and, in my opinion, creepily
offered me his muffin. I refused on the grounds of never accepting food from
strangers. I told him, not unkindly, that he could be trying to drug or poison
me and that I just didn’t think we knew each other well enough for that. His
witty and oh-so-obvious-flirty retort was: then we should get to know each
other better. It was a very awkward line to hear and no doubt deliver. We made
nervous laughter. I relinquished my number after some more barely witty banter,
an exchange of names and the excuse of having to run. My future husband, Daniel
Stanfeild called me later. We dated, and fell in love.
Daniel is the
best I have ever met, in a very bias way of course. He is funny and awkward. He
makes me laugh and lets me cry. When I get mad he gives me the space to walk
away and argue when my head is clear. He’s the perfect height: taller than me.
He doesn’t like grape flavoring which is good because the smell of it alone is
enough to make me queasy. He was completely supportive of me working long hours
on my save the world mission. He proposed to me in a very cheesy, ridiculous,
make me squirm kind of way: He brought Dunkin’ Doughnuts home and asked me to
get to know him better for the rest of our lives. I cried like a teenage girl
when he brought out the ring and I understood what was going on. We got married
in the next spring in a cherry blossom orchard with all of our family and
friends. After our wedding we moved into my dream house. It’s an old but
refurbished home in New England and not too far from the ocean. It’s yellow
with white trim. There is a large back yard with swings and a garden. Daniel
and I were so happy. He even let me get a dog to let lose in our fortress of
awesome.
In my second
year of marriage my team and I did it. We found the final piece of the puzzle
that had been eluding us for the past four years. My idea, Herman and I’s
concept, my team and I’s project, was finished. We invented a product that revolutionized
consumption: a photosynthetic way of living for all. We won!
Now that my
work was finished I was ready to start a family. The next year I was pregnant
and Herman and I were up for a Nobel Chemistry Prize. We won that too. With the
prize money we have started a new but more lax project. It’s a secret though.
Keep your senses open and remember: silly little human lives are all worth
writing down even if you don’t win a Nobel Prize.
