- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
I'll be honest here, I've been a bit over exaggerated when it comes to expressing my thoughts in class about the book we are reading. I've been so persistent that even I catch myself thinking, “ This poor student teacher must wanna throw a book at me right now”. It's okay to laugh, you know it's true.
If I was in your position, this is what I would see; Brown girl with a big mouth uses sarcasm as crutch & makes everyone laugh: sits alone. Wow, that sounds as pathetic as it did in my head. But it's the truth and there's no denying it.
So when I came into this honors English class, I was shocked by the amount of praise I was receiving- for once it wasn't for being funny. It was for my writing;the voice inside my head that had been liberated and given the dignity to sprawl itself across paper - a physical copy that proves that this gal right here ain't as naive as she seems. The point I'm trying to make from this is that the way people see me isn't anything special. And to have so much positive feedback about something personal makes me feel special, like someone is finally reading inbetween the lines; someone finally gets me.
And then this book comes around.
Looking back to the past couple of days, I cringe at my stupidity for openly blurting out how I connect with the cultural values that we are learning about. At first it wasn't a big deal but then I realized-
I’m in a freaking honors class.
That means everyone surrounding me is advanced in the way they think,interpret information, and how they judge things.
How they judge people.
Once they read the book and pick up on all of the pessimism and abuse, family stress and outdated values, they'll start to put two and two together. They'll start to look at me differently, maybe not at first but subtly they'll see something in me that wasn't there before. It will be in the back of their minds, nothing awful of course but to me the change will be drastically noticeable. They'll tilt their heads to the side a bit and give me that look.
Pity. It's a look of pity.
It's a look that makes a girl like me feel ashamed to be in relations with that group- to even be called one of them.
Someone seen as lesser because they weren't brought up as gently as the rest.
You know what, maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe what i'm seeing isn't really there
Maybe I'm looking at all of this wrong
and nobody actually sees me for what I am-
Maybe I'm just not getting the bigger picture-
...that's the game of perspective,
how it plays I guess.
And so when I'm faced with this text quote in the perspective of a Hispanic daughter who is another victim of this silent mind killer- a victim of ritual belittles and sought out hopeless futures-
nothing. Absolutely nothing.
We're you expecting something different? Eh-hem, let me try again;
You're mother is like that too? Oh sweetie, we need to grab a drink sometime and have a nice chat! Here, take my number, we can scrapbook together while reminiscing on our lovely childhood experiences.
We can share off insults and trade em like cards. You were gonna run away right? Because she said you were going nowhere in life. So you said “Oh hell yeah I am! I'm going out the front door, that's where I'm going!” But in reality that's how far you made before tumbling back. You could've left, roamed the city,wandered the countryside and seen the entire world while you were gone and yet it's like you've never left because you will always go back. You know you will because that's your weak link where if I strike hard enough, you'll shatter apart. Don't worry though, we can relate on that one another time.
Wow that sounds so selfish me, I am so sorry, I swear I sound so over dramatic right now. Gosh. Don't call CPS, I swear this is just for the journal entry, it's all gucci.
*NO ALISA’S WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF THIS ASSIGNMENT*
Click, there it goes.
You didn't notice it didn't you. You were too busy silently chuckling at my quirky apologies to even notice that it just happened to you.
That thought that slithered into the back of your mind, didn't you feel it?
You got it now and you didn't even have a clue , you were blind to it in the heat of the moment
but now you feel it slowly rising to the surface of it all- you feel guilty knowing that I've caught you.
Don't worry though
When you look at me during class tomorrow I'll just pretend I didn't notice.