The Freedom Writers Diary - Erin Gruwell [104]
From the beginning of my freshman year up until this very day, I have had to be the center of attention. My freshman year I had the whole Gothic image going on and thought I was a vampire. I pierced my nipple and my mother nearly had a heart attack. I was on restriction for a month. My sophomore year I told everyone that I was a fairy and with fairy characteristics, I fluttered out of the house without parental consent. I got locks put on my windows and was restricted for a month. My junior year I was totally out of control! I wanted to rebel in any way that I could. I cut class almost every day, I shaved my long blond hair off and dyed the little bit that was left jet black. Unfortunately, I forgot to put Vaseline around my face and I ended up with black dye stains dripping down my face for about two weeks. That took ten years off my mom and I got restricted for another month. If that wasn’t enough, I later pierced my tongue and had the very blasé “I don’t care about life” attitude. At sixteen and a half my mom found out I was cutting classes with my twenty-one-year-old boyfriend. She threatened to put him in jail and I was on restriction twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week—possibly forever. It didn’t matter, those restrictions were getting quite old. I snuck out of the house anyway and almost went to jail myself when I got caught outside past curfew by the cops. What made me realize that I should slow down on my wild streak is when Ms. Gruwell threatened to kick me out of the Freedom Writers. That got my attention—fast! I depended on the Freedom Writers to always be there, and I was tongue-tied when Ms. G got fed up with my crazy antics. I was putting everything else before my education and she would not put up with it.
I still can’t see why they chose me to speak to a senator, instead of a Freedom Writer who deserved it. Well, I’m not going to let down the Freedom Writers, Ms. G, and especially not myself.
Diary 126
Dear Diary,
I yelled, “Viva los Freedom Writers!” in front of an audience of university professors at UC—Irvine’s “Pursuit of Peace” conference today. I can still hear that “writers” part echoing in my head. I was hoping to hear laughter from the Freedom Writers in the audience because usually they’re the only people who laugh at my antics. But the entire crowd burst into laughter. Hysterics, actually. I even got a standing ovation! How odd! This has never happened before. People usually laugh at me—never with me.
Ironically, the last time I was at UCI, I was in their Child Development Center being treated for ADD when I was eight years old. At the time, I was trying to understand what ADD meant. I had no idea what it was. All I knew was that it was controllable and wouldn’t affect my work habits…if I take the prescribed drugs. I didn’t pay much attention to ADD when I was young. Now I have learned that it could stay with me until I die.
Because of my ADD, I have done some wacky stuff in the past—where unfortunately, there were no standing ovations! I remember a time when I was young and I charged full steam ahead into a Coke machine. “Look out! Here comes the RAGING BULL!” Everyone was looking at me. I was out of control and on a rampage! Bang! Bang! Clank! Bang! The banging and the clanking was my head crashing against the soda machine. Next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor while everyone was getting free Cokes. This is not the sanest way to gain popularity! Most people would use quarters to get soda, but I used my head. Not the “normal” thing to do, huh?
The Coke fiasco was a result of not taking my medication. I take Ritalin to control my disorder. It’s small, but it packs a punch. It has the power to control me, like a lasso on a horse. The medicine goes into effect thirty minutes after consumption, but if I forget to take