I never graduated community college

I was in community college for journalism for about a year and a half, during which I took as many art classes as humanly possible. I wasn't particularly *good*, but I always liked expressing myself creatively. Which is why, when my art teacher (professor?) gave us an assignment to do a family portrait, and immediately I had the perfect idea. You know that painting, the one with [the man holding the pitchfork and his wife](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Gothic)? I wanted to show what an american family looked like through *my* eyes.

I knew pretty early on just how poor my family was. Don't get me wrong, we had a couple nice things, like a tv (frequently pawned), or a wii (even more frequently pawned until they couldn't afford to buy it back again). But having no heat, or water, or electricity was a pretty regular experience. Regular enough that I have very fond memories of my siblings and I going to stay with my aunt for a few days because we weren't going to have water for a bit. My step-father was not a nice man, to put it lightly, and my mother is an alcoholic who frequently dabbled in harder stuff. Fortunately, she was a very happy drinker, so don't feel that bad. But suffice to say, I didn't live the life I saw other people live. On TV, I saw people, supposedly *just like me*, that somehow could afford things I'd never even considered, or even just lived without fear holding the house together. I always had this urge to shove it down people's throats, to almost force them to look at it, to look at what the rest of us have to deal with. And what better way to do that then twist one of the iconic paintings into a symbol of poverty and trauma?

I can't remember what I did with it now, but I don't really remember it explicitly doing well or even being side-eyed. Being a bit older now, it really wasn't very unique of an idea! I still have that shove-it-in-their-face attitude, but really now I just don't particularly pay attention to how people react. I'll talk with a straight face about what it's like to go hungry, and then laugh when you're shocked. Because it wasn't just me, it was everyone in our neighborhood. A whole chunk of good ol' America can't keep the bills paid and can't cope without substances. 

Funnily enough, I actually ended up having to drop out because my financial aid was pulled because I couldn't prove my mother, who was, at the time, homeless/in-and-out of rehabs, or my step-father, who was in prison, weren't financially helping me since I was under the age of 25. They never got degrees either.