Charley English Creative Essay
I blow out the candles. I am a fresh mature copy of the person who once shared my name. No longer a smelly chubby lump of skin that occupies time and space selfishly; rather, I am a big, I am independent.
I blow out the candles. Too old to cry, too old to dress up, too old to play with my sisters barbies. Societies reformatted me to my assigned gender role: football, wrestling, trucks, manly!
I blow out the candles; too old to listen, to pay attention, to be quite. The boy-girl-boy-girl seating arrangement works to my conversational benefit. Ms Williams Punishes me for not shutting my mouth ever.
I blow out the candles. My reminder picture sentence evolves into being banished from the better play ground. I am forced to endure the ultimate punishment -- Eurythmy private lessons from a creepy colorful-robe equipped anthroposophist: essentially I had to tell stories with my movement during recess. The checks on the board marking my infractions grew and grew, growing into self hatred, growing into shame, growing into parental disappointment -- the worst of all.…show more content… I leave the shelter of fairy tales and knitting -- Waldorf -- and enter the darkness of Indiana. I go to a school that diagrams sentences with shapes, and doesn’t reward us with beeswax. I discover the republican, and the conservative. I pretend. . . pretend to be into guns, pretend to be into basketball, pretend not to have two moms, pretend to fit in. Slowly reformating, Slowly no longer pretending, as I force myself to shape the mold that labels me as socially acceptable, because I could never sit