Moli Mitchel

I’m Moli I’m 17 and I’m currently living in New London I go to Science and Technology
and New London High School. I was born in Port­ au­ Prince Haiti in 1999 I didn’t move to
America till 2004 when my little brother was born. I lived in New York from 2004 to 2008 when I
moved to Connecticut. I have to 2 brothers and I currently have a sister on the way. I’ve lived
with my mom since we’ve moved to Connecticut in ‘08 my dad on the other hand lives in Florida.
I get to see him in the summer which is nice I wish I could see him more often but it is what it is.
Hopefully things will change when college rolls around.
I’m what I call not an open book but half a open book I sail, swim and the occasional
softball. I love to write poetry but I’ve been stuck for a while I haven’t written in a while. In the
future I have a couple pathways I’m applying for the peace corps this summer seeing if I get in.
If not I really want to go to Jacksonville University and major in pre-med and minor in music.
What I’m proposing for this project is to you use this small section of place in the police
station and make a collage of pictures. What I would like to do is get a Polaroid camera and go
around New London and get a pictures of police officers interacting with the community. My goal
with this is people could see that cops do some much more than we think it’s just that we’re not
always around to see it. Also I’m trying to get the truth about the police in our community and
hopefully it could help get a message across that it may need fixing.

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“Iamthetypeofgirlwhoscrewsupeverythingshetouches”

I am the type of girl, who screws up everything she touches. I cannot go a whole day without one negative thought, but I can find the beauty in everything, except for myself. I have one too many books on my shelf, instead of one too many pairs of shoes. My scars are the biggest insecurity I have, yet I have to wear them like bracelets down my wrists. I talk in a small voice, but when I laugh, it’s loud and obnoxious. I am afraid of death, but most the time I wish I was dead. I remember the bad memories more than the good, and I don’t just let anyone through the door to my heart.

He is the type of boy, who fixes every crack he touches. He paints his world in a positive light, finding his own beauty in things that are not looked at as beautiful, like me. He has too many albums stacked on his shelf, next to the pile of his favorite films. When he talks it’s in the sweetest, most calming voice you’ll ever hear, I mean, it sounds like an angel. He is afraid of life, but still wants to keep living. He picks out the best moments of his past and replays it in the back of his mind like his favorite television show. He doesn’t just let anyone through the door to his heart.

When we met, I didn’t believe he could fall for a girl like me. I was clumsy in our conversation, without even having to trip, because I fell. I fell for him. I fell for the way he viewed the world, I fell for the way he carried secrets in his mouth, and I just craved to kiss them open. I don’t know how he fell for me, I don’t know if it was because I called him lovely instead of hot, or told him I couldn’t make love to just anyone. I don’t know if it was the way my hair always looked messy in pictures, or how I wore eyeliner way to much. I just know that he fell for me, the real me. ­(M.M)

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