Coming of Age by Collin

Coming of Age by Collin - June 2014 Scholarship Essay

According to Mrs. Burke, my high school English teacher, there are several main themes in literature. One of them is the theme, coming of age.

Soon, as a high school senior, I will be leaving the first chapter of my life and moving on to the college chapter. That seems to fit the ‘coming of age’ theme. My ‘coming of age’ is interesting because it involves an unusually large extended family. Yes, I have a total of forty-two first cousins. The twenty-two on my father’s side all grew up within a five-mile radius of each other. We live in the quaint village of East Aurora, nestled in beautiful western New York. It is so perfect that it should be the sequel to the old TV series, “Leave It to Beaver.”

Sometimes I feel guilty to live in such a town, when there is so much sadness in the world. The adults in my town seem not to differentiate between the “have and have- not” residents. Many went to high school together and remained good friends. They meet for beer and wings at the local pubs, attend the Kiwanis chicken barbeques, support a fantastic Boys and Girls Club, and a great school system. They also have an Aktion Club for developmentally challenged folks that boasts a band, a baseball team and numerous social activities. Nobody locks his or her doors here. The churches are well attended. The gardens flourish and even the small starter homes are well kept.

I have a younger brother and we are pretty close to being what is considered “have not’s” in this privileged environment. My grandpa and grandma moved here when the city got too dangerous. He was a blue-collar worker and she was a schoolteacher. They had five kids and adopted three more when a neighbor died. Family is the most important thing in their lives. Their eight kids were close and never left the town. They in turned adopted children and added them to the mix. Most of my aunts and uncles picked public service jobs, like teachers, social workers, nurses, and therapists. While our family never could compete with the “toys” or fancy vacations many classmates enjoyed, we were considered “cool”, courtesy of our outgoing Irish personalities and the sheer number of us who ran about town.

My cousins were such a fascination to me. I fell nearer the end of the lot. I learned so much of life by observing them. While our friends planned trips to Aruba or Myrtle Beach, we rented our cabins at Allegany State Park. I learned to love singing and guitar, and story telling, as we sat around the campfire. It was here I heard of their mistakes and their triumphs.

All my cousins played sports. Whatever sport I chose, there was an older cousin to tutor and encourage me. Most of them were honor students and expected me to follow suit. They were there to help mend my first broken heart, and to celebrate my first award.

Some wonderful memories are from a stage in my grandparent’s basement. It was complete with dressing room, curtains, lights, and microphones. Every Christmas, in lieu of expensive presents, the anticipation grew for the ‘Christmas Play.’ Every cousin had a role. We learned to be creative, accepting and supportive. My cousin Danny was always a female lead and I was always the villain (my alter ego). Who could ever forget the final scene of “The Titanic”, with bodies lying in scrunched blue netting to simulate waves. My cousin, Lauren, was moaning, “ Jack, Jack,” through shivering lips while the small flashlight illuminated the darkened stage.

Now that we are older, my cousins and I make our musical CD’s with voice, guitar, and harmonica. We call our productions, “ Sylvia’s Stage “ in honor of my grandmother, Sylvia.

Actually, I’m not sure all my memories would fit into one book. It might have to be a series. I only know that my childhood was rich and full, surrounded by a strong supportive family. I actually have two sets of grandparents, living in this town. They are both still married to childhood sweethearts, and even better, still in love. I feel it is a vanishing way of life. Maybe that’s why it should be recorded in history as a novel, so that future generations may read about the “good old days.”