My Great Grandma
An essay by scholarship recipient Chase Evans
My great grandma was expelled from Forsyth County when she was only 3 years old. She was the 8th of 12 children and the last to truly not be an infant when this injustice occured. She grew up distinctly molded by the experiences that immediately followed my family’s expulsion. Yet she went on to get an education through 8th grade but possessed much more wisdom than what her education allotted her. She married during the depression and lived in little more than a barn made home, bartering butter to make the ends meet to support her 5 children and their education. Her efforts were not in vain by any means. She and her husband went on to buy a house in Smyrna and then some, and her children went on to become teachers, pastors, and musicians. In this way, her strength transcended beyond just herself, and edified in her descendants was a will of fire: to fight, to do with their gifts what they could no matter how difficult things appeared to be. Over 100 years have passed, and my bloodline is finally beginning to shake off the shackles of disparity that were placed upon us by society, our finances, and even ourselves. The weight of this world is great and not fairly put upon everyone equally, but it is not only the duty but the sincere will of good men among us to raise that weight so that others can move about easier, to be a pillar among mankind and warrior against the brutalities of inequity. She was such a person, a pillar to her family, her faith, and to her community. I had the privilege to know her in life; and yet the struggles of that time, the repercussions that echo through my family history were so well hidden beneath the indominable spirit of this woman who grew to be stronger than the adversity that surrounded her. In the diminutive form of a frail old woman, my youthful self couldn’t understand or appreciate just how arduous her journey to that point was; the life she led, the struggles she endured, or the sacrifices she made. It is only now that I myself have gone through just a fifth of her life lifespan and experienced through just a lens of her vision the fight that one must give to trudge through hardship, have I begun to comprehend it all. It is for this reason that one of my true regrets in life was never having the opportunity to thank her, to tell her I was old enough to understand, that I was old enough to listen. Time, as it turns out, is truly the great equalizer, and sometimes there’s just never enough to tell the people you love the things you wish you could before their time here ends. Even though I may not be able to say the words to her, I know the greatest thanks I can give is to utilize the opportunities she gave my family and go forward in this life with that will to carry on that she had; and in every endeavor I pursue, to remember how truly strong the cloth was that I was cut from.
