Storybook Beauty

A Personal Narrative
by Whitney Aiken

Personal Narrative

San Luis Obispo…it is a sheltered community set outside of the real world. It is beautiful, expensive, safe, and fun. I feel very fortunate to have grown up there. It is a fairly progressive community with Cal Poly bringing educators and students to the area, while also being well preserved and protected by the older generations that never left. It is actually a lot like Monterey, Carmel or Pacific Grove, with its storybook beauty and middle to upper class residents. Also, much like Salinas or Watsonville, there was Santa Maria and Atascadero on the outskirts of San Luis Obispo, with more affordable housing where lower income families could commute.

My Dad was head of the psychology department at Cal Poly, and my Mom was a rehabilitation counselor. My family was never wealthy, but comfortable. Both my parents worked with troubled individuals, so since a very young age both parents have emphasized the importance of recognizing how a lot of people struggle in this world, and that it is imperative to give back or help as much as possible.

I lived in a middle class neighborhood next to Cal Poly when I was in elementary school. The neighborhood was primarily retired couples, so my sister and I received a lot of attention for being the only kids in the area. We moved to a property out by Edna Valley when I was in the sixth grade. We built a house on six acres, and my Dad started a vineyard. Our house was the smallest on the block surrounded by mansions. We were a small humble family surrounded by wealth, but my dad was more interested in the wine and vineyard aspect of the property then a flashy home. I always felt an inch of humiliation creep over me when friends would have to drive by the enormously extravagant houses only to pull into the driveway of our un-landscaped humble home.

When I was in the seventh grade my Dad was diagnosed with Cancer. Yes C-A-N-C-E-R! Originally the diagnosis was that he had two weeks to live, but he held strong for three years after that. This completely changed everything. We ended up having to sell the vineyard and move into town because my Dad wasn’t able to help my Mom take care of the winery. To be completely honest, I don’t remember very much of life in San Luis Obispo after that. It consisted of going to the hospital at lunch instead of off with my friends, and both my parents gone for months at Stanford while my sister and I would stay with relatives. It was close calls, to remission, to relapse, Thanksgiving dinners in a box, and plastic Christmas trees in hospital waiting rooms. It was actually spending a lot of time at the Stanford Hospital that got me into art. I used to walk the halls just staring at the artwork, and I would draw in the ICU waiting room. My Dad was very into photography, and right before passing he gave me his old camera, which pointed me in the direction of photography.

It is actually really bizarre to write about San Luis Obispo, because I felt so outside of everything when my Dad was diagnosed. It just completely took over our lives, really that entire three years is a blur. When my Dad passed away my sophomore year of High School, we were living a block away from my School. It is this total “Leave it to Beaver” neighborhood with retired couples. We had this white picket fence, a red door, shutters, and vines growing up the walls. Really it was the perfect move for my parents while my Dad was sick, and continues to be perfect neighborhood for my Mom. The neighborhood has this real sense of community, there is actually a neighborhood mayor, and newspaper, and everyone knows what everyone else is doing. It drove me crazy when I was in High School, but I can appreciate it now that my Mom lives there alone, and I know she always has people around.

So after my Dad passed away I flipped, I freaked out! I signed up for foreign exchange in Panama, I mean anything to get me away from the emptiness that plagued my house. I found it so bizarre how something could go so wrong, that someone so important could be missing yet the world just carries on. I felt like I was going in slow motion while the rest of the world was in fast forward, and I could never catch up, never enjoy the parties, the dances; I felt outside of everything and alone, very alone. When my Dad died, so did the security he brought. It was like my Mom didn’t know how to be a Mom without him. I had no rules, we both just carried on in our own isolated worlds. So with images of perfect waves and a new family, six months after my Dad passed away, I signed up for a year in Panama. As soon as I got there every inch of me knew it was the wrong decision, it was too soon, and all I could think about was leaving my Mom alone. Instead of finding a new family to replace what I had lost, I had distanced myself from the only family I had left. I ended up switching families three times, and getting a bacterial infection in my eyes, I lasted six months before coming home.

I remember the plane landing and thinking that San Luis Obispo had somehow changed. The town, which I previously felt alone and detached, suddenly felt like home. Coming back from Panama was a big shock, suddenly I realized how privileged my community was, and how many people take things for granted. My Mom and I spent the next year and a half of High School coming to terms with losing my Dad. I was trying to be a normal High School kid, and enjoy our new life together.

November 2006 my Mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. Yet again, my entire world came crashing down around me. This last November she had a double mastectomy, and has been cancer free ever since (knock on wood). It still feels weird to actually say it out loud. Both parents aren’t supposed to battle cancer, I mean I thought this shit only happened in the movies. It’s not supposed to happen in real life, much less to me. Yet, every time I start to feel victimized, I remind myself that everybody has faced struggles in their life. Everyone has or will experience loss, and it is just a part of life. If I have learned anything from my parents, and their battles with cancer, it has been to never feel sorry for myself. And that it is absolutely necessary to recognize and understand that EVERYONE is or has battled something hard in their life…because this is life.

My father passing away, my experience in Panama, and my Mom battling breast cancer are the two things that shaped my growth the most. Primarily, I learned that I have the strength to get through anything, and the importance of family. I would say that out of all of the hospitals my family was in and out of for three years, that they are the institutions that I respect and fear the most. Hospitals have represented the best and worst moments of my life, but I will always owe my introduction to art to Stanford Hospital.