Personal Narrative: My Mother Behind The Glass Window

On Christmas day of 2013 I remember sitting on a dirty cold bench at the Women's Correctional Center in San Mateo. I was waiting to see my mother behind a steel glass window of only an hour. My mom being incarcerated a countless number of times opened my eyes to a future that I don’t want. I remember going to her court date, I missed school for it. I sat with my dad behind the stands waiting for my mother's turn. She came out in a orange jumpsuit and stood in front of the judge hands cuffed in front of her. The judge read her charges one after another after sentencing her six months in the correctional center. When I heard that I was disappointed and sad but I didn't cry because this wasn’t the first time.

For the prime years of my life my mother was both mentally and physically absent. I had my dad there by my side through it all but a girl needs her mother. I spent countless school nights and holidays visiting my mother in jail. I’d cry looking at her through the window not being able to hug her or kiss her. It was heartbreaking only being able to hear her voice without holding a dirly payphone against my ear. …show more content…
Seeing her in that predicament showed me how I never want to go down that path. Through that period of time I continued to stay focused. I went to school, did extracurriculars, I maintained a good attitude even when I had an issue to act out and be upset. I was only thirteen when this started up. I was forced to mature fast. I wasn’t able to enjoy hanging out with friends and going to the mall because I had to make sure I was home so that I could answer my mother's collect calls. I’d even do three ways calls for one of her friends on the inside so that they could reach their