I did not know the rules of private.
Seated crisscross applesauce,
kids line the perimeter of the square carpet.
it nearly covers all of the cold classroom tiles.
the material prickles my legs as I sit still.
Morah Heidy wears a green button down shirt.
She is enthroned huge and heavy on her plastic chair.
She is distant from the carpet.
As she reprimands the insubordinate little boys
who cannot sit still like me,
she releases a guilty giggle.
An obedient girl, I am perfect and beloved.
Assured of my safety,
I finger my nose innocently,
relieving a deep-seated itch.
All at once I hear my name.
Banished, she orders me
to wash my hands with soap.
An unstained girl proclaimed dirty
Ears ringing, a swarm of little eyes follows me
to the bathroom, where I shoulder the lesson.
This is a direct and brave poem, and I am looking forward to discussing it in class tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteWow, literal chills. It's kind of scary in a way. like the way that girls and boys are looked at and treated differently starts so young and can make such a harsh first impression. Something that I struggle with in my writing is clearly telling a story while still making it sound like a poem so I really admire the way you did that here. It was so simple yet so fierce.
ReplyDeleteThis poem was really amazing! I actually showed it to my sister because I thought it was so fantastically written. Your depiction of the shame of being singled out, especially after trying so hard to be perfect" really brought out my own memories. The depiction of the adult as the authority and G-dlike character was so true to a childish outlook.
ReplyDelete