Collinsville: A Place to Find Family
When Dr. Mark Wilson gave me the news that they’d found a place for me to stay in Collinsville to be a part of the Living Democracy internship through Auburn University, I didn’t have much idea of what to expect out of the town, the people, or the woman who decided to house me, Symphony Graves.
But within my first week, I was feeding horses, pulling weeds, and playing in the dirt as Symphony would put it. As she paraded me around to her friends and neighbor Brownie, showing off the Auburn student she was housing for ten weeks, I heard echoes of the same sentiment: “She’ll make a country girl out of you.” And that, she did.
Before long, “Mrs. Graves” became “Symphony,” and she and I got along like fire. I helped her work in the garden, wash her puppy’s paws in the garage sink, cook for her boyfriend Cecil Sharpe, and take care of her friends in any way that she could.
On Wednesdays, if he hadn’t been out mowing, Cecil came over for dinner. He mumbled in a Southern accent so thick sometimes I could hardly understand him and gave me a hard time whenever he could, but one Sunday afternoon when we were out for lunch after church, a worker mistook me for their granddaughter. We all chuckled and decided that, for this summer at least, I was their temporary granddaughter.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you Symphony and Cecil, for being my grandparents when I couldn’t be home with my own and for many family dinners together.
I came to realize quickly that Collinsville was the type of place to find family. Each week I helped Robin Rowan, a library employee and Star Trek fanatic, with English classes for native Spanish speakers. There I met the community in ways I never could have couped up inside an English-speaking bubble.
Bonifacio Hernandez, a student and long time Collinsville resident, told me about his life in an oral history interview to document immigration stories to the Sand Mountain area. He told me about his adventures being a single dad, working at the pig plant, and growing pineapples in his backyard.
One night in class, I showed him a tiny thorn in my finger from a rose bush in Symphony’s garden. He asked for a needle, and I came back wielding a safety pin dug up from the drawer behind the circulation desk.
Within seconds, he held the nearly microscopic splinter in his hand, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of my dad, the designated splinter-getter-outter in my own family. Bonifacio taught me about survival and the things people will endure for a better life for themselves and their kids. Thank you, for imparting your wisdom and for sharing in the delights of language learning.
Another student, Sherlyn Juan, started coming to class about halfway through my stay in Collinsville. She wasn’t afraid to try out new verbs and speak confidently in foreign pronunciations. Though my Spanish wasn’t perfect, and neither was her English, we became fast friends, after all giggling is a universal language.
Sherlyn and I loved firsts. She tried American ice cream and jumped on a trampoline, and I called on her for favors I wouldn’t ask of anyone else. Thank you, Sherlyn, for a true friendship in such a short amount of time.
Moms came in droves in Collinsville. Between the four library ladies, I always had someone to ask me if I’d gotten home safely, encourage me to be a leader, cheer me up with funny jokes, or feed me delicious cream-filled donuts.
Robin Rowan became a dear friend to me, so much so I often forgot she wasn’t a 20-something college student and was in fact a sweet 65-year-old with a cane she was prepared to wield against my unwanted suitors. Thank you, Robin, for improving my Spanish, for helping me navigate the sadness that comes with an unfair world, and for being a friend in a place where I knew no one.
Yvonne Patrick, librarian, comedian, pre-school teacher, former nurse, and soon to be farmer, was quick to clamber onto the floor with her pre-school class to read stories and play tigers or dinosaurs or any other growling animal of the kids’ choosing. Thank you, Yvonne, for being a source of laughter and a wonderful role model for the best way to live life.
Collinsville has so many amazing community members willing to take action in their community. Casanova Williams and his efforts to get a historical marker for Gregory School, the lovely ladies at Collinsville Museum, Greg Sarabia, the community liaison for the Equitable Neighborhoods Initiative, all taught me how to take responsibility for the needs I see in my community.
Jennifer Wilkins, the director of Collinsville Public Library, had more faith in me than I had in myself. She trusted me to plan the summer reading program and supported my efforts to purchase Babbel subscriptions for the library.
Collinsville, Alabama, is a rural community 20 minutes from the closest Walmart. It struggles to keep mom-and-pop shops open with big chain stores the town over. Many residents work labor jobs where they’re overworked and underpaid. Many don’t speak English and don’t have citizenship.
There are people here who struggle to fit in and struggle to find family, but for those truly looking and open to accepting it, there is always help at Collinsville Public Library. Thank you, Ms. Jennifer, for demonstrating the true meaning of leadership and loving like Jesus.
Lastly, thank you to Dr. Mark Wilson, Professor Nan Fairley, Brittany Branyon, and our friends at the David Mathew’s Center. Your group effort to create and continue this program offered me a truly life-changing opportunity.
Tags: Collinsville
