It’s as plain as a cloudless day. I can just see it right now. Room full of tall, small, big and little people. Like cats, not a color of skin missed. Mixed perfumes, sweat from nervous tension flood the senses. I see a blur of people concentrating on the words I wait to hear. Yes, yes, there it is. The bass in the voice of the loud speaker is blaring with words concerning the awards and authors. blah blah blah “…And for the poem that brought tears to the judges eyes…the award goes to…” (oh the tension. Quiet is the room. Ohhh My NAME!) “…for her spectacular creative writing!”
The previous sounds of a cemetery passes by as the crowd whoops in wild enthusiasm followed by a standing ovation. Metal chairs loudly screech and scrape across the floor. One foot in front of the other, I hobble toward the stage. Uncertainty puppets the jittery movements in my fingers. Thirst chokes my throat every inch of my journey across the mirage of the Sahara Desert. My steps lead me closer to my goal. Pride straightens lifts my shoulders and my gait. Three metal steps creak under my weight before I stand center stage in front of the microphone. My hand reaches up and pulls the mike down in front of my glossy lips. A sharp screech forces the audience to shudder and cringe.
The lump in my throat disappears with the strength of my discipline. I utter the words before the outstretched and eager audience… “First, I am grateful for the friends and family encouraging me to keep my poem over the last couple of years. Hmmmm. Now let me thank personally the adult that inspired me…oh, dear…it was…it was…hmmm…I want to thank the nameless teacher who ignored me in Jr. High...”
A REAL LIVE GHOST
By Jae Byrd Wells
I never knew what it felt like till now.
I was being ignored as ignored can get.
All the other people got desired attention.
My patience has drained down the pipes to the oceans.
My attention was important, but not important enough.
Life seemed to slip away from me.
I felt no visible then a ghost.
I was unseen as if I am a molecule.
I was unheard as if I was burrowing worm in the dirt
I was unrecognized as if I was a blurry piece of dust in a microscope.
The anger bottles up, yet it seems to drop.
The agony swells and disappears into the clouds.
Deep down inside, my stomach hides like a cowardly cowboy.
Swallowing the injustice is like swallowing a 747.
I must be in control of my surroundings.
No, no outburst shall I utter.
No anger spoken, just a soft squeak of a mouse.
I shall go on with my life like nothing happened.
I am a real live ghost.
Rabbit trails, books, movies, and poems can express the hurt and lack of attention from certain desired adults. It was very convenient to run across this previous poem that I had written years ago while I was in Jr. High. Adults have had a bad reputation for pushing familiar and strange children away. As the old saying goes…. “Children should be seen but not heard.”
Children and young adults alike seek good and bad attention like a carnivore seeks the taste of blood. They latch on to the prey and show absolutely no mercy. I remember this one particular occurrence in my history from numerous scars proving how I escaped the viscous jaws in the nick of time.
Playgrounds are where you’ll run from or across the little carnivores. They’re cute and cuddly like wild cats, yet as human as a man cub. They loudly purr and give you those big innocent sweet eyes that seem to say, “Play with me. I won’t hurt you.”
On this particular bright sunny day I minded my own business, teaching my own cub to crawl on his own. A stealthy, stalking young lioness comes up and starts staring at me. Those sharp eyes were indeed penetrating into my very soul. My personal space felt violated. The room grew in darkness with shadows all around me. No place nearby would ever be considered to secure a safe place. In the children’s world, playing cat and mouse games even allows for a base to hide from your enemies.
I received no such luck. The stares did not stop but escalated to talking. Politeness was indeed on my tongue as I treated her like any other human being. I showed her respect, and cautious, courtesy. She had the eyes of a snake, paralyzing me and stopping my many attempts to escape. The lioness tagged along wherever we went.
Eventually, I helped her climb the highest mountain in the playground. Big, BIG, BIGGEST mistake I could have made that day. I became prey immediately. She continued to hover like an interested UFO. The young-ling mirrored my every move. The whining tongue of a domestic cat in heat came off her lips so sweetly. The predator who had surveyed and hypnotized me could have devoured me. My son was in danger of these deadly tactics. The lioness constantly pounced on every chance she could to sweep in between my son and I.
My son and I looked deeply at the other and begged for help with helpless eyes. I mean, “Come on kid, I came in here to play with my son…NOT YOU OVER GROWN EXCUSE FOR AN ATTENTION CRAVED BABY!” I wish I could have said it out loud in front of her starving face. If I had, I probably would have brought the angry parents and cousins of a humongous baboon family. The ‘predator and prey game’ continued after I rudely shot past her, scooped up my son and darted frantically away. The little lioness must have lacked adult attention to the point where she felt as though she had to latch on like a tick. She could swell up with bloody attention till she popped like an over ripened tomato and she wouldn’t know or care. I didn’t let her.
No matter how many times I have tried to forget that girl, I see other children doing the same thing and remember the first incident. I have been surrounded by packs waiting to jump on me. Luckily, my son grew up where he could survive in the restaurant jungles that we face daily.
One extreme attention or another happens on a daily basis in all our lives. A statement saying, “Yea, my dad and mom sat me down and discussed things like parenting,” is practically unheard of. Motherhood is shushed and things are not discussed in Jr. High. Yes, most parenting skills are acquired with a learning experience. Yet, a lot can be discussed around or before boys are thirteen and girls are twelve.
Picture this scene. Seven children on a quiet hiking trail on a bright sunny day when their leader tripped, slipped, and rolled down the side of a dangerous cliff. What could be worse, but a storm that had moved in overhead while the children ignored the changes of winds and time? All their attention focused on trying to work their way down to the fearless, hurting leader. Two children strode one way while another couple launched the other way. Three children argued with one about the correct descent to save their beloved trusted mentor.
Their biggest problem? They are still in the process of learning about the big scary world around them! Whether or not they are blinded in sight should not matter as a factor in the situation. The problem is when they are blinded to the route and the direction they should choose about the emerging situation because they lack the proper wisdom and guidance.
Children teaching other children about life in general create problems for everyone involved. It can cause problems for themselves, their families, friends, and even strangers surrounding them. People don’t take time to realize how their lives affect even a worker in a store or restaurant. People are people whether they are close loved ones or not. Strangers should be loved also. They deserve respect as you respect your own soul.
Instead of creating a book, I am blogging about Motherhood Shushed; Things Not Discussed in Jr. High. Lets take some rabbit trails leading one to some much-needed wisdom helping us all change the outlook on our lives. Our lives can be likened to the three stages of matter…liquid, gas, and solid. The liquid state, I paralleled to the body because the body itself is so unreliable and can take on many forms in different containers. The Gas State describes the mind all the way because one’s mind cannot be seen, but it can affect everything around it. Appearance is solid. Solid, in the fact that that is what it is, solid. One can make some dents and scratches and even add or subtract a little, but it is still what it is.
STAY TUNED
for more
parenting entries
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This website is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites. This means that if you click on one of our affiliate links and make a purchase, we will earn a small commission at no additional cost to you. We only recommend products that we believe in and use ourselves, and we strive to provide accurate and helpful information to our readers. However, we want to make it clear that we are earning a commission from these affiliate links, and we hope you will support our website by using these links when making your purchases.
As an Amazon Associate, I earn commission from qualifying purchases.
Thank you for supporting What The Hecc. #ad #CommissionEarned
#amazonaffiliate #affiliatemarketing #affiliatemarketingtips #amazon #affiliate #amazonfinds #affiliatemarketer #affiliatemarketingbusiness #affiliateprogram #affiliates #amazondeals #business #affiliatelink #affiliatemarketingsuccess #affiliatemarketingtutorial #affiliatelifestyle #affiliatemarketingtraining #affiliatebusiness #businessowner #affiliated #poshaffiliate #affiliatemarketers #affiliatemarketingofflineonline #amazonprime #affiliateworld #marketing #affiliatetools #affiliatemarketingonline #superaffiliate #businessquotes
Comentarios