“It was then that I understood what I needed to do. If I could become a turtle and build a home that I could carry on my back, I would never feel homeless again.”
Growing up, my family (4 siblings and my mother) and I were on Section 8 housing assistance, so all of the apartments we ended up living in were never ours nor were they ever to be ours. What we called home was someone else’s, with the ability to have it taken away from us at any given moment. We learned to truly appreciate what we had, no matter if it was small or in a rough area, we felt blessed that we had anything at all, as we knew that we were somehow still better off than some.
Our home was built on family and relationships within our community, not materialism or property. As long as we still had our health, friends and family, how we lived almost didn’t matter. It was that family love and support that got each of us out of those living situations and into a better one, one we could truly call ours.
My piece “A Tiny Home, A Perfect Fit” symbolizes the happiness and contempt one can feel in a smaller than average home, like how my family and I made the best of our ‘homes’ growing up.