The Glass Castle By Jeannette Walls Reflection

The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls is a book written from a young woman pouring her heart out on the pages. The book is honest, true, and heart wrenching. Everyone has a story of where they have been in life. Even though they are the stories of the past, does not mean that those situations still do not have some form of effect on a person. However, when a person has a past that does not fit in the box of normality, being able to admit your past is not a light task. If a person is ashamed of what they have gone through, they tend to keep those stories bottled up inside of them. Being honest and open about a past that can wake a person up from their sleep at night, even if it is just to themselves, can sometimes feel impossible. Naturally,

one does not want someone they care about to feel different of them because of what they had gone through. But keeping a past that still has a hold on the person hidden away can make us feel like we are not being true to the people around us. When Ms. Walls first got out of the life she was living, she was ashamed and embarrassed to think of where she had been. Telling her story took a lot of strength; but, once she did, she felt a huge weight come off her shoulders and she felt she could make a difference in the world. Now, whenever she is asked about her past, she is able to talk about it without having her face flushed with embarrassment. A theme I connected with, while reading the book, was having the strength to be honest with yourself and the people around you about the past you have gone through.
While my story is not as intense as Jeannette Walls’, it still was not the ideal situation. My parents got a divorce when I was three years old; and looking back on how things were growing up, I feel as if I had two different lives. Most of the time, when I think about my younger years, I can only mentally handle thinking about one life-style. It is either the one with my mom or the one with my dad. It is hard to remind myself that I was living both at the same time.
Life with my mother, was like the average “trash” story.

We were always moving homes to avoid bankruptcy. By the time I was comfortable in a place, we were off to the next one. It was the same way with the boyfriends that she would have. Those men were not top of the class either. I remember a time when, after she had given birth to my brother Tierre, the police had come to my door. They were looking for my brother’s father, who we called Smoke, because he was wanted for murder. The rest of Smoke’s story is not mine to tell; however, having the police show up on your door, in order to arrest someone who took the life of another, sticks with a person. The guys my mom was with, after the divorce with my father, includes: a murder, druggies, drug dealers, criminals, and your everyday

lowlife.
There were days at school that I was not given any lunch because she had chosen to spend childcare money on other things or her other children. My mom has always been a yeller, and location never seemed to stop her from that characteristic. Because of this in the neighborhood, I was never welcomed to hang out with any of the other kids, because their parents viewed my mother as a troublemaker. Often times, people on the outside often assume that the children are just like their parents; but, like a lot of things, that assumption is not fair to make. Sure that can happen, but it is not fair to assume that is always the case.
Every Friday, Grammy would pick me up from school and she and I would hang out until dad got off work. When I was able to go to my dad’s, my life was like a fairytale. He lived in a nice, white-fenced home in a safe neighborhood. The people next door were kind and I was welcomed to be their friend. Everything was clean (and this includes me). Dad and I would play in the big backyard. In the winter, we would always build snowmen together. In the summer, we played tag. Being with my dad was alway an adventure. Sometimes, we would go to the zoo and other times it was Grammy’s. Dad would spend time reading with me and helping me with homework. Dad and Grammy instilled in my a value of education. Life with dad, even if it was only for a couple days a week, was perfect.
Like everyone knowns, things can never stay perfect forever. There came a time when even my perfect weekends with dad were hard to get through. During the summer of 2005, my dad introduced me to a woman named Selesa. What felt like weeks later, they were engaged and we were moving into her space; which, was her space. From the start, I was being forced into sports I did not care about and situations I did not want to be in. I was a little girl who loved music and books; not, sports or camping. Even though she always made a point of reminding me that I was a guest in her home, my dad was still there. I was still a daddy’s girl and wanted to be with him.
Every time I went home from my dad’s, even when he was married, I asked my mom if I could live with him. Finally, after years of asking, she agreed to let me live with him. Honestly, I think she only said yes because she figured Selesa would say that I was not allowed. But, I ended up moving in with my father, Selesa, and her three boys. I learned just how true the “evil stepmother” stereotype was. Everything that I did was wrong; unless, it was staying invisible in my room. Even though Selesa was cruel to me, her boys were (for the most part) friendly. Sometimes their friendliness went a little too far; but, for the most part, they were ok.
I remember a time that her youngest son, Konner, and I were pretending we were pirates on top of the RV. When we were told to get down and come inside, I was yelled at and sent into timeout. While, Konner was told not to do it again. The two of us claimed how that was not fair. Selesa’s response was, “Well, do you want to be punished as well?” To which any normal person would reply with a, “no.” She then told her son, “Then stop complaining and keep your mouth shut.”
She would always yell at me when my father was not home. Then, when she told the story about what happened, I would not be able to defend myself because he would think I was lying. However, there were times when we were doing things as a family and I would stay by my dad the whole time. If I wanted to say something, it would be whispered so only he was able to hear. There were times that I was told that I was acting horrible because of this. I would ask dad was I was doing wrong and he would whisper back that I was being fine.
Every Tuesday and Thursday, dad and I would have time where we went out just the two of us for a while. I always thought that it was so great having moments with him like they use to be. One day, Selesa sat me down and told me that those times with him was a gift from her. She continued to tell me that she was allowing me that time with him and she could easily take it away.
Another time, she sat me down and told me that she was the love of my father’s life. If they were to ever get divorced, it would be because of me and my father would never forgive me for it. So, you can imagine how a person would feel when a week later they find out that their father is getting a divorce.
Just a little bit before the divorce, I found out that I would be given a solo in the school play.

I was so excited! When dad told me that we were going to be moving at some point in time, I asked if we could wait until after the school musical. Unfortunately, this meant that we were living in a hotel room with Grammy for a couple months. On the weekends, we were living in her home. This sounds kind of like a lot for a just a fifth grader’s school play, but dad did not want to take that moment away from me. And honestly, living with my dad and grammy in a hotelroom was still a lot better than living with my mom; or even Selesa for that

matter.
After the play was over, I started attending Liberty-Benton. I came into the school at a weird time. It was almost the fourth quarter when I started school. At first I thought that all of the people were super nice! But, then I noticed that, while they were nice, they were also pretty distant. That is understandable though, most of them had been going to school together since kindergarden. However, it was also Shelby’s first year at L-B as well; and, even though we were both pretty shy, we became friends.
Saying I was a huge brat during my middle school years would be a complete understatement. Grammy and I were very distant because I would always push her away because I believed that I knew everything. Looking back at my middle school self, makes me laugh at how cringy I was.
Throughout my four years of high school, I have changed into a completely different person. During my freshman year, I was trying to stay focused on my academics as much as possible. That year, Grammy broke her ankle and moved in with us for a month or so.