Francesca Nicole Sampogna
“It’s impossible said pride, it’s risky said experience, it’s pointless said reason , give it a try whispered the heart.” In my generation growing up most children wake up go to kindergarten, come home, color and play with their toys or go to the park. They got excited for new barbies, or toy cars. Their small bodies filled with joy when their parents told them that after school they are going to the park, or to the toy store. I wasn’t like most kids, my park was two hundred feet long and eighty-five feet wide. It was fifty degrees in December and it was fifty degrees in July. My toy store did not have isles of cars and games or dolls. Instead my store had pucks, and sticks and tape, blades, dresses, gloves and ice skates. My park was Port Washington Ice Skating Rink in Long Island.
My brother is four years older then me so when I was in kindergarten he was in third grade and he played hockey, so everyday I was going to the ice skating rink to watch his practices. As I sat in the cold rink watching him skate from blue line to red line I saw a group of girls walk in and over the sound of my brothers hockey team taking slap shots I heard a faint noise, and being a curious kindergartener I followed it. I found my self in a new world. There was music and make up and dresses everywhere in this room. I watched the girls put something on their feet and to me they looked weird because I was use to my brothers big, bulky, smelly, black hockey skates. When my dad noticed I was gone he came to look for me and found me in the upstairs ice rink watching these girls spin and jump on ice. I was infatuated with how they moved across the ice as if they were dancing. I didn’t know what it was called, or any of the names of those girls on the ice all I knew was that I needed to go and do it to. I wanted to be the one who was on the ice not watching from the side lines. I looked at my dad and just pointed...
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