2.5 mile walk to starbucks, rent a movie from blockbuster, watch it, knock out in my family room with the blinds drawn, family dinner, and then you’d leave and we’d meet at 12pm promptly the very next day.
Sra. Hegland was my 7th and 8th grade Spanish teacher, and she made me love the language. She kept it real. She remembered we were 12, 13 years old. She remembered to not treat us like adults, like the rest of Miller unfortunately did. While other teachers smashed our heads open with demands of excellence, and dragged perfection and unreasonable effort for the average from our noses on the grind, Sra. Hegland let us be the children I know now that we were. She told my sister once, when I was graduating, and Noopur was coming into the spanish program, to always listen to me. She said that yes, I was sharp, but more than brains, I had wisdom. I was the first wise 13 year old she had met. I have carried that compliment with me in my heart throughout my experiences, and cherish it. Gracias, Senora, por su creencia.
prickling pride. I don’t need your damn pity. Be friends with me because you see my worth, not because others hadn’t. I am better than a reflection of society’s judgment.
sleep presses on my eyelids as gravity takes its toll and pullssss my expression down to a sad sad frown. and the world carouses my senses about, with a light fuzz tinging every sound, and every touch dulled by whirls of sleep snowflakes icing my mind.