A.N. WARNING! Strongly-worded political piece. Not for the faint of heart.
You have been warned.
so this is how it ends, the story of a lady and a
trump, to brush your fingers against a glass ceiling
only to fall a century short. is this where we’ve landed?
i’m back in high school again, and the class president is
the football superstar with a cheerleader on each arm
because he’s the one who smiles and winks and promises
free pizza though how no one knows (or cares). they don’t
notice the drab girl with glasses and books who studies
hard because she wants to be a doctor or lawyer or
engineer what a fool she is, because her worth is judged by
the boy on her arms, not by the content of her brain or heart.
pity the fool, because she will grow up thinking she can be
anything, and of course she can be, can be married to a doctor
or lawyer or CEO or MVP, can have four children or five, can
bring meatloaf or pot roast to the Sunday church potlucks.
dreams are for fools and writers, not practical people who understand
their place in the world, that progress is an illusion, that morality
is a phase, that hope and faith and charity are children’s names in
a book caked in dust stuffed somewhere on the back of the shelf.
and now i, too, know where i stand in the kitchen with bare feet bare
brains why fill them to be called girl they call me i did that well
for a girl because (just like they said in high school) no girl should
be a doctor it’s wrong don’t think jobs don’t think success don’t think
saving the world that’s wrong you’re wrong that’s men’s work just
shut up and remember your place on the arm of some boy and yet
through it all i see hope in the strangest places i’m not the only one, i
see the solidarity that we are strong, that hearts connect, that
the football superstar can only go so far, but i am a writer (and
perhaps that makes me a fool) but i dream, i dream far and wide and
step on toes and frayed nerves every day. they call me fool and girl and
foolish girl but maybe someday i can shatter ceilings and be
judged by something other than the boy i’m (not) clinging to for dear life.
i’m with her. when they go low, i go high. and i too can move mountains
oh, don’t think so?
just watch me