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USA250 Journal Project
Personal Chronicle: July 4, 2025 – July 5, 2026
A gift for reflection. A record of now. A story for what’s next.
Who am I?
I’m Keisha Dené Monroe, forty and still fine. I’m the one who makes a joke before it gets too quiet. I keep hot sauce in my purse, scriptures in my heart, and people’s secrets in my soul. I’m a best friend, a daughter, a sister, an auntie to everyone on the block. No kids of my own, but plenty of young ones who know I got their back.
I work the front desk at the hospital downtown—fifteen years strong. I know every nurse by name, every shortcut through red tape, and where they hide the good coffee.
I’m loyal to the ones I love, fierce when I need to be, soft when I can be. I’ve held Tasha’s hand through labor and loss. We’ve danced in kitchens and cried on porches. She’s family. So are her babies. So is her mama. I don’t care what nobody says—chosen family is just as real.
I’m a woman who’s seen a lot, held my head high, and still gets up every morning ready to face what’s next. That’s who I am.
How did I get here?
Born in ’85, one of four kids crammed into a two-bedroom on the Southside. My daddy was in and out—my mama was always there. Worked double shifts and made sure we had clean clothes, hot meals, and didn’t act a fool in public.
I met Tasha in the fourth grade. We bonded over our love of chocolate milk and Miss James’ spelling tests. Been rolling deep ever since. She had Ava, and I stepped up like a godmama should. Then came Jayden, and I learned how to braid hair with one hand and stir grits with the other.
I wanted to be a nurse once. Life didn’t let me finish school. But I stayed close to it—close to healing. I think showing up, day after day, is a kind of medicine, too.
I’ve been through heartbreak, faith loss, weight gain, and glory hallelujahs. I’ve learned the hard way that peace is something you fight for.
This journal is for the days I can’t say things out loud. For the moments I want to remember, and the ones I need to forgive. For me. Finally—for me.
