I refuse.
رفض
我拒絕
मॅँ तलछट
I refuse.
Jeg Nekter
私は拒否します
Ja odbijam
I don't demure, I don't avoid, I don't dodge and I don't accept.
I REFUSE
Wonderful voices sing to me,
every night, and those voices are enticing.
I REFUSE.
Beautiful darkness
and a pain which is just so...green.
Yes, pain is green.
Green is my favorite color to wear.
I REFUSE.
Because my family is small.
My family is broken.
The three of us that are left...
that's enough.
I REFUSE.
I have no noose
I have no gun
I have no needle
Because I refuse.
I have no toaster
nor bathwater.
I have no rope
nor rafter.
Because I refuse.
I only have the beige wall,
my hazel eyes,
and so much hurt.
But more than that,
I DARE YOU
I Dare You
i dare you.
Because
because.
though I feel weaker
daily
every day i become weaker
ever
da
....
I REFUSE
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
This Smile Ruins My Empire
The place I work, Scores-Plus, is a diversified franchisee. Scores-Plus has some InLingua, some Princeton Review, and some IELTS in its book of business. The owners, the Kalwanis, have just franchised the Global Indian International School (GIIS). The franchise is for Pre-K-4th grade (American-wise), with 2 additional grades added every year the school is in business. Normally this wouldn't affect me, but all of the pre-testing and parental interviews are taking place where I work 1/2 the time: Sultan Business Center.
What this really means is that for the last 3 weeks, I've had to navigate and dodge through families on my way to my classroom, and I've had to grin waaaaay too much: Excuse me, sorry, I'm going to classroom 8, pardon me. My face got tired from the fake nice.
Yesterday, I elbowed my way through the hopeful crowd to teach my TOEFL class. I had a heavy heart, because my 2 students (a local and a Korean girl) don't talk. At all. 2 hours of me entertaining myself is not something I look forward to, especially with a significant lack of booze, sarcasm, or juggling skills.
Anyway, I managed to make it through the class. As I was walking out through the lobby on my way home, elbowing through those parents who were eagerly awaiting the competency test for their children, a little girl stepped right in front of me.
She was dressed like a Dollar Store Princess: a pink dress outfitted with some sort of cardboard lace, a white headband that sparkled in that way only cheap sequins can, frilly white socks. She had a short, bobbed hair cut, and had earrings.
I stay away from children, as a rule, because I refuse to talk down to them. Which means they don't really understand some of what I say, and they certainly don't understand most of what I mean. Kind of like my TOEFL class.
This little darling stepped in front of me on purpose. I know that because she watched me saunter down the hall, saw me pause at the water cooler, saw me waste some time reading posters. She stepped in front of me and she smiled. A missing teeth/tongue in the gap smile. What could I do? I smiled back, mainly because I thought that would be the end of our interaction.
She reached up and grabbed my hand, and this little...thing...started talking. About her Mom and Dad. About how she didn't like her shoes. About her sister. About this silly place she was in. She kept looking up at me while chattering,while leading me towards her (gulp) parents. And her twin sister.
Yep.
Twin sister. Who could smile just as well, perhaps even better, as her sister.
If you have a hard heart, or a hardened heart, or a heart that you wish was harder, stay away from twin Indian girls who look like princesses (regardless of if they are from the Dollar Store or Bloomingdale's).
As soon as her sister saw me, the twin grabbed onto my other hand. There I was, my hands held by twins, and I had to talk to their parents. Their father looked at me in a really scary way, until he saw his daughters holding onto me. Their mother had been watching the whole time, and was beatific Beaming, really.
How do you get rid of kids holding your hand? There are two ways: punch them in the face or distract them, I tried distracting them: I jangled keys, I hummed a few bars of Inspector Gadget, I impressed both of them with my soft-shoe. They wouldn't let my hands go, so I had to break down and ask them why they were holding onto me.
"I'm scared."
"Me too."
"Of what?"<----me
"Tests."
"Mommy being sad."
"Mommy won't be sad."<----me
"You can help."
"How?"<---me
"Be nice to that man."
And she, the first twin, smiled at me, a smile with a hint of fear and something...even worse than fear. But she did. I want to be cold, I want to be calculating, I want to be removed, but when a child smiles that way...yeah, it's over.
"Oh...that guy?" <------me pointing at Mr. Kalwani (my boss...with whom I've had a pretty good relationship with since the Ras Al Khaimah Shaiks keep requesting me)
(Two nods)
Lugging the two kids hanging on my hands, I shuffled over to their parents. I introduced myself (no handshakes...you know, because of the kids), and nodded toward Mr. Kalwani. We went over, and I finally disengaged myself from their weird elfin fingers.
"The Patels."<---Me
"Oh."<----Mr. Kalwani
(Smiles and fidgeting)<---The Patels
"Have you met the daughters? They are amazing."<-----Me
I don't know what the outcome was but, after giving the whole family to the care of Mr. Kalwani and starting my walk (sorry...excuse me...pardon...didn't see you) out the door, I looked back.
The first twin (and yes, I don't know her name and will never see her again) was peeking out the door. She smiled.
And she broke me.
But she broke me from her first smile.
What this really means is that for the last 3 weeks, I've had to navigate and dodge through families on my way to my classroom, and I've had to grin waaaaay too much: Excuse me, sorry, I'm going to classroom 8, pardon me. My face got tired from the fake nice.
Yesterday, I elbowed my way through the hopeful crowd to teach my TOEFL class. I had a heavy heart, because my 2 students (a local and a Korean girl) don't talk. At all. 2 hours of me entertaining myself is not something I look forward to, especially with a significant lack of booze, sarcasm, or juggling skills.
Anyway, I managed to make it through the class. As I was walking out through the lobby on my way home, elbowing through those parents who were eagerly awaiting the competency test for their children, a little girl stepped right in front of me.
She was dressed like a Dollar Store Princess: a pink dress outfitted with some sort of cardboard lace, a white headband that sparkled in that way only cheap sequins can, frilly white socks. She had a short, bobbed hair cut, and had earrings.
I stay away from children, as a rule, because I refuse to talk down to them. Which means they don't really understand some of what I say, and they certainly don't understand most of what I mean. Kind of like my TOEFL class.
This little darling stepped in front of me on purpose. I know that because she watched me saunter down the hall, saw me pause at the water cooler, saw me waste some time reading posters. She stepped in front of me and she smiled. A missing teeth/tongue in the gap smile. What could I do? I smiled back, mainly because I thought that would be the end of our interaction.
She reached up and grabbed my hand, and this little...thing...started talking. About her Mom and Dad. About how she didn't like her shoes. About her sister. About this silly place she was in. She kept looking up at me while chattering,while leading me towards her (gulp) parents. And her twin sister.
Yep.
Twin sister. Who could smile just as well, perhaps even better, as her sister.
If you have a hard heart, or a hardened heart, or a heart that you wish was harder, stay away from twin Indian girls who look like princesses (regardless of if they are from the Dollar Store or Bloomingdale's).
As soon as her sister saw me, the twin grabbed onto my other hand. There I was, my hands held by twins, and I had to talk to their parents. Their father looked at me in a really scary way, until he saw his daughters holding onto me. Their mother had been watching the whole time, and was beatific Beaming, really.
How do you get rid of kids holding your hand? There are two ways: punch them in the face or distract them, I tried distracting them: I jangled keys, I hummed a few bars of Inspector Gadget, I impressed both of them with my soft-shoe. They wouldn't let my hands go, so I had to break down and ask them why they were holding onto me.
"I'm scared."
"Me too."
"Of what?"<----me
"Tests."
"Mommy being sad."
"Mommy won't be sad."<----me
"You can help."
"How?"<---me
"Be nice to that man."
And she, the first twin, smiled at me, a smile with a hint of fear and something...even worse than fear. But she did. I want to be cold, I want to be calculating, I want to be removed, but when a child smiles that way...yeah, it's over.
"Oh...that guy?" <------me pointing at Mr. Kalwani (my boss...with whom I've had a pretty good relationship with since the Ras Al Khaimah Shaiks keep requesting me)
(Two nods)
Lugging the two kids hanging on my hands, I shuffled over to their parents. I introduced myself (no handshakes...you know, because of the kids), and nodded toward Mr. Kalwani. We went over, and I finally disengaged myself from their weird elfin fingers.
"The Patels."<---Me
"Oh."<----Mr. Kalwani
(Smiles and fidgeting)<---The Patels
"Have you met the daughters? They are amazing."<-----Me
I don't know what the outcome was but, after giving the whole family to the care of Mr. Kalwani and starting my walk (sorry...excuse me...pardon...didn't see you) out the door, I looked back.
The first twin (and yes, I don't know her name and will never see her again) was peeking out the door. She smiled.
And she broke me.
But she broke me from her first smile.
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