My name is Jamie— after my father James—Alison— after my grandmother on my dad’s side—Pool— not much to explain there. I was born in Evanston, Illinois at Evanston Hospital. My date of Birth is February 27th, 1986 and my parents’ names are Kimberly Anne Kurrus and James Cloyd Pool. I have one younger brother named Aaron James William Pool who I insisted on naming “AJ” after my favorite cartoon character. Now that all the facts are out of the way, let’s move on to my story.
Early Life
If someone were to ask me what kind of childhood I had, I would most likely say that it was a good one, a fun one, a fairly typical one. I met my childhood best-friend, Catherine Allen, when we were in a local daycare together around the time we were one-year-olds. I’ve been told that she was mean to me, always pushing and biting and such. But nevertheless, we became close friends throughout elementary school and loved to play with our American Girls dolls together until I went to private school in sixth grade and we drifted apart. When the woman who ran this daycare decided to quit, my mom took over the job and started her own home daycare at our house. Shortly after the opening of our new family business, with my dad working in auto shops and selling Vulcan Tools while he took a home certification course to become a licensed electrician, my brother was born.
October 20th, 1989 my little brother, Aaron, was brought in to the world as a white-haired, blue-eyed, 9-or-so pound baby boy. Keep in mind that the rest of my family has dark hair and dark brown eyes. So the new addition to the family was a sight to behold. As my brother and I entered the school-aged part of our lives, Aaron was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder and prescribed Ritalin. He spent about a week walking the Earth like a zombie on the medication before my mother took him off of it and decided to try a different kind of schooling: homeschooling.
I was in fifth grade, attending the local elementary school, and had just been punished for something another classmate did. Needless to say my mom was fed-up with the public school system and pulled both my brother and me out of it to home-school us. I loved having a self-directed curriculum and helping my mom teach art to the daycare children. My brother, on the other hand saw it as a time to play and not as a time to learn. He quickly fell behind in his reading and writing. I excelled and requested to be placed in a private school. I ended up choosing the Chicago Waldorf School where I met my best-friend, Christina Studebaker.
Waldorf education focuses on learning through the arts. I loved it, and I loved my new friend, and seemingly twin “sister”, Christina. She was from Oak Park and we were allowed to have sleepovers on school nights and took the CTA train from The Oak Park Green Line to the Loyola Red Line to get to school in the morning. I felt like I was growing up. We were two peas in a pod. She was always there, even when my parents decided to get a divorce, finalized in April 1999, and re-marry within the same year and within a month of each other. Now I had two new families.
In July of 1999 my Father married an artist named Charlene Moy, a Chinese-American woman he had met at a support group for single parents at our church. She had a daughter named Nicole (Nikki) who was a year younger than my brother. I loved playing with Nikki. Our favorite activities were doing art projects with her mom and dancing around the house singing the lyrics to Spice Girls’ songs. My brother, who had not been allowed to have video games or violent toys in my mom’s house, was now allowed a Play Station game system and spent most of his time playing video games.
In August of 1999 my mom married a man she had met at one of the Chicago contra dances she began to attend during the process of divorce named Thomas Aquainas Matthew Darson Dix. He was twelve years her younger which was odd but made him tons of fun to play with. The four of us got along swimmingly before my brother and I reached our “terrible teen years” and began to rebel against this person who was trying his best to be a dad to us. My brother and I lived with my mom most of the time and saw my dad every-other weekend until I turned eighteen.
October 20th, 1989 my little brother, Aaron, was brought in to the world as a white-haired, blue-eyed, 9-or-so pound baby boy. Keep in mind that the rest of my family has dark hair and dark brown eyes. So the new addition to the family was a sight to behold. As my brother and I entered the school-aged part of our lives, Aaron was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder and prescribed Ritalin. He spent about a week walking the Earth like a zombie on the medication before my mother took him off of it and decided to try a different kind of schooling: homeschooling.
I was in fifth grade, attending the local elementary school, and had just been punished for something another classmate did. Needless to say my mom was fed-up with the public school system and pulled both my brother and me out of it to home-school us. I loved having a self-directed curriculum and helping my mom teach art to the daycare children. My brother, on the other hand saw it as a time to play and not as a time to learn. He quickly fell behind in his reading and writing. I excelled and requested to be placed in a private school. I ended up choosing the Chicago Waldorf School where I met my best-friend, Christina Studebaker.
Waldorf education focuses on learning through the arts. I loved it, and I loved my new friend, and seemingly twin “sister”, Christina. She was from Oak Park and we were allowed to have sleepovers on school nights and took the CTA train from The Oak Park Green Line to the Loyola Red Line to get to school in the morning. I felt like I was growing up. We were two peas in a pod. She was always there, even when my parents decided to get a divorce, finalized in April 1999, and re-marry within the same year and within a month of each other. Now I had two new families.
In July of 1999 my Father married an artist named Charlene Moy, a Chinese-American woman he had met at a support group for single parents at our church. She had a daughter named Nicole (Nikki) who was a year younger than my brother. I loved playing with Nikki. Our favorite activities were doing art projects with her mom and dancing around the house singing the lyrics to Spice Girls’ songs. My brother, who had not been allowed to have video games or violent toys in my mom’s house, was now allowed a Play Station game system and spent most of his time playing video games.
In August of 1999 my mom married a man she had met at one of the Chicago contra dances she began to attend during the process of divorce named Thomas Aquainas Matthew Darson Dix. He was twelve years her younger which was odd but made him tons of fun to play with. The four of us got along swimmingly before my brother and I reached our “terrible teen years” and began to rebel against this person who was trying his best to be a dad to us. My brother and I lived with my mom most of the time and saw my dad every-other weekend until I turned eighteen.
Teenage Years
For me, high school was an extremely interesting experience. I went to 4 different schools and graduated with almost and extra years’ worth of credits due to me having to meet these different schools’ graduation requirements. I also graduated with honors and a 3.98 GPA. I first went to Regina Dominican High School in Willmette, Illinois; then to Academy at Ivy Ridge in Ogdensberg, New York; then transferred to Midwest Academy in Keokuk, Iowa; and then came back to my home town to graduate from Evanston Township High School.
Regina was an all-girls Catholic college prep school. I went there because one of my friends from Waldorf School was going there and Christina would be going to her public high school in Oak Park. Despite the geographical distance, I went to stay with Christina every weekend and her and I started to explore the word of illicit drug use and alcohol. I was caught shop lifting from an accessory store by the Oak Park police and when my parents came to pick me up from the station I flipped out at them and was admitted to the Highland Park Hospital’s teen psychiatric ward as a day patient. I stayed there for three weeks, celebrated my birthday my last day there, and then with friends and family outside of the ward that night. The next day my mom and I took a two-day road trip to up-state New York, stopping overnight at Niagra Falls, to enroll me in my new “boarding school”.
Academy at Ivy Ridge is situated in Ogdensberg on the St. Lawrence River, right across from the border of Canada, really a beautiful and quaint little town. But my only glimpse of it was right before I entered the school building. I had been admitted to a behavior modification program and academy and I was not permitted to look out the window until I earned the privilege to. Many of my simple comforts were taken away, such as shoes and even condiments for my food, but I worked through the “levels” in the program, focused on schoolwork, and did well enough to be transferred to a new academy in the same family of schools, located in Iowa and much closer to my home. I completed “the program” and was allowed to return home just in time to attend my local public high school for the last semester of my senior year in 2004. That summer, my mom, step-dad, brother, and I all moved to Oak Park so that my brother could attend Oak Park River Forest High School.
I was finally in a town where I knew people. My old friends from before I left for boarding school all lived nearby. I got a job at an internet café in town and started to live with a few of my co-workers in a tiny apartment close to our work. I got tangled up in drugs and alcohol again and ended up moving in with Christina and two of our good friends. The four of us had our own apartment in Forest Park for about a year. However, I moved out to stay with a boyfriend and eventually moved back with my mom because I was doing the kind of drugs none of my friends wished to be around. I was exiled, in a sense.
Regina was an all-girls Catholic college prep school. I went there because one of my friends from Waldorf School was going there and Christina would be going to her public high school in Oak Park. Despite the geographical distance, I went to stay with Christina every weekend and her and I started to explore the word of illicit drug use and alcohol. I was caught shop lifting from an accessory store by the Oak Park police and when my parents came to pick me up from the station I flipped out at them and was admitted to the Highland Park Hospital’s teen psychiatric ward as a day patient. I stayed there for three weeks, celebrated my birthday my last day there, and then with friends and family outside of the ward that night. The next day my mom and I took a two-day road trip to up-state New York, stopping overnight at Niagra Falls, to enroll me in my new “boarding school”.
Academy at Ivy Ridge is situated in Ogdensberg on the St. Lawrence River, right across from the border of Canada, really a beautiful and quaint little town. But my only glimpse of it was right before I entered the school building. I had been admitted to a behavior modification program and academy and I was not permitted to look out the window until I earned the privilege to. Many of my simple comforts were taken away, such as shoes and even condiments for my food, but I worked through the “levels” in the program, focused on schoolwork, and did well enough to be transferred to a new academy in the same family of schools, located in Iowa and much closer to my home. I completed “the program” and was allowed to return home just in time to attend my local public high school for the last semester of my senior year in 2004. That summer, my mom, step-dad, brother, and I all moved to Oak Park so that my brother could attend Oak Park River Forest High School.
I was finally in a town where I knew people. My old friends from before I left for boarding school all lived nearby. I got a job at an internet café in town and started to live with a few of my co-workers in a tiny apartment close to our work. I got tangled up in drugs and alcohol again and ended up moving in with Christina and two of our good friends. The four of us had our own apartment in Forest Park for about a year. However, I moved out to stay with a boyfriend and eventually moved back with my mom because I was doing the kind of drugs none of my friends wished to be around. I was exiled, in a sense.
Early to Mid-Twenties
I continued my downward spiral and lived with a different boyfriend for four years in a condo, our drug habits and all other expenses funded by his parents. I finally quit my drug use in January of 2009 and broke up with my boyfriend.
Meanwhile, my step-father asked my mother for a divorce around the time I quit abusing drugs. He also found out that he had stage-four melanoma and was given seven to nine months to live. The divorce was finalized and I was finally able to connect with this person, who had been my step-dad, as a peer and not as a relative. We got along swimmingly for the short amount of time he remained alive. He passed away later that year and is still sorely missed by all the lives he touched. He was a brilliant mind; a member of MENSA and a high school science teacher. He also founded and headed the robotics team at the inner-city Chicago high school he taught at. He made a profound impact on my life and offered me a lot of inspiration to set higher goals and to work hard to attain them.
After the break up with my long-time boyfriend, I quickly moved in with a new boyfriend and lived with him in the Chicago Loop area while he pursued a music career and I pursued a modeling career. That didn't work out either. I found that I was weary of my boyfriend’s anti-social lifestyle and also discovered that modeling was not the right calling for me. I moved back with my mom, got my driver’s license (finally!) and began to go back to school at Triton College. I had completed a few credits already back when I was nineteen and twenty.
Meanwhile, my step-father asked my mother for a divorce around the time I quit abusing drugs. He also found out that he had stage-four melanoma and was given seven to nine months to live. The divorce was finalized and I was finally able to connect with this person, who had been my step-dad, as a peer and not as a relative. We got along swimmingly for the short amount of time he remained alive. He passed away later that year and is still sorely missed by all the lives he touched. He was a brilliant mind; a member of MENSA and a high school science teacher. He also founded and headed the robotics team at the inner-city Chicago high school he taught at. He made a profound impact on my life and offered me a lot of inspiration to set higher goals and to work hard to attain them.
After the break up with my long-time boyfriend, I quickly moved in with a new boyfriend and lived with him in the Chicago Loop area while he pursued a music career and I pursued a modeling career. That didn't work out either. I found that I was weary of my boyfriend’s anti-social lifestyle and also discovered that modeling was not the right calling for me. I moved back with my mom, got my driver’s license (finally!) and began to go back to school at Triton College. I had completed a few credits already back when I was nineteen and twenty.
Present and Future
(2012-2013) My step sister just graduated from college in Los Angeles with a degree in fashion design and lives out there. My brother has competed one year of military service with the Army in the Middle East and is currently posted in Fort Carson, Colorado Springs. When he visited us for his birthday in October 2011 he bought a Lexus with the money he’d been saving. He plans to make working for the United States Army his career.
My life has been a good one. It has been full of learning experiences and I feel that I have taken full advantage of these opportunities that the World and that I have provided for me. I’m excited to live on and to see what the rest of my life will be like, come what may.
**[This autobiography will no longer be updated as it was written as an assignment for a college-level Psychology course. The writer would like to preserve the integrity of the essay.]**
My life has been a good one. It has been full of learning experiences and I feel that I have taken full advantage of these opportunities that the World and that I have provided for me. I’m excited to live on and to see what the rest of my life will be like, come what may.
**[This autobiography will no longer be updated as it was written as an assignment for a college-level Psychology course. The writer would like to preserve the integrity of the essay.]**