From My Grandmother's Files: Early Independence
by Shirley A. Littleford Johnsen, edited by Kirsten Ellen Johnsen
The first time I heard the early morning crying of my new baby brother probably instigated my independence and liberation just a few weeks before I turned five years old. I remember awakening and then waiting for my mother to come into my room to get me up. Usually, she would lay out my clothes, partially dress me and start my day with a nice breakfast. When no one came to my room after the crying started, I felt no disappointment, but wonderment. I made a simple decision to get up, get dressed, and if my mother and grandmother hadn't arrived in time, I might have made my own breakfast.
From that time on, no one could do anything for me. I remember my mother and grandmother pleading with me not to lock the bathroom door when I took my bath, brushed my teeth, or went to the toilet. Nothing could persuade me to open the door. My stubbornness was judged to be my father's inheritance, and as such, although considered a fault by my grandmother, made me feel vindicated. I was my father's daughter, so why shouldn't I emulate him?
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