I've Got Friends in Low Places

The bottom line is, I consider them friends.


I may fuss and complain, threaten to use a bar of soap on their mouths, but ultimately I'm going to be there for them.


They are a people society has forgotten.


There was a time when I felt the same.


Much too young for the four kids I had, I wanted to be Carol Brady.


I was more like a compilation of MTV's Teen Moms.


I'd attend church services where I grew up. I had been the daughter in a high-profile, well-off family but was now the mom in the food pantry line.


I felt like a second-class citizen.


They say music can reach into your innermost parts, and express your feelings in ways your own words never could.


The first time I heard the song I knew it was written for me.


It described  my deepest darkest feelings. Feelings of rejection, feelings of desperation, feelings of  a resilience I had yet to tap into.


It gave me the strength to continue on, to convince myself that one day I would no longer feel like a second-class citizen.


It was powerful.
It was encouraging.
It was...


From Aladdin.
(I did have four children under the age of six.)


The reprise came after Aladdin had been told by a prince that he was a worthless street rat.


Riff raff, street rat,
I don't buy that.
If only they'd look closer.
Would they see a poor boy?
No sir-ee. They'd find out
There's so much more to me.


Twenty years later the chorus still comes from a place deep within.


I truly did relate.


I know now that it was how I saw myself, not how others saw me, that made me feel worthless.


Yes, I'd done things that weren't going to win me Mother of the Year awards. I was young and stupid. I don't know what I would've done without Ms. Thelma, the nanny who helped raise my children. She'd also raised me. Truth was, she was still raising me. Barely out of high school, each of my children was born during a college semester.


It wasn't in the plan.


But life sometimes has detours.


I read a sign the other day that said Life's about how you handle Plan B.


I was never good with change.


But here I am now and with surprising clarity I see that every road I went down, every mistake I made, and every heartbreak I endured are laid out on a map for me to help others navigate their way back.


Including my friends on the streets.


They, too, feel like second-class citizens.


But I know that's not true.


No sir-ee. There's so much more to them.