every week, i volunteer with a study hall program for middle school kids. we basically just watch them do their homework and help them out when they have a question.
there's this one kid who comes when i volunteer. he knows very little English (Mandarin Chinese is his first language), but he's stellar in math. when he doesn't have work to do (this has been the case for the past two weeks), he likes to make up his own math problems. he writes down equations and tells me to solve them, or draws complex shapes and asks me to find the area.
i've always been relatively good in math up to trig or basic calculus level, but (more than) half the time, i can't solve the problems this kid gives me to solve. when i give it my best effort anyway in an attempt to retain some semblance of my dignity, he complains that i'm working too slowly.
all told, i never thought a middle schooler could make me feel so dumb. and as embarrassing as it is, i also find it really funny.
you used to run through my mind all the time--marathon
but we've finally crossed the finish line--i'm done
trying to focus on a definite distraction
wondering where i rank on your list of situations
reducing myself to two X chromosomes because your company made me feel sexy
i'm not interested in getting my heart broken
it already has deep cracks in places
but here i was acting like this fling didn't hurt me
there i went attempting to assume the role of the player
ignoring emotions though without them, this piece would never happen
guess i thought i could use you without feeling used
now i see that was stupid, a mentality that made me miserable
i barely recognized myself
some nights i'd take a long look in the mirror and ask
what happened to you?
you were meant to live for so much more than semi-drunken hookups and misplaced emotions
you're a princess...so why you keep rollin deep with them paupers?
and i would come so close to calling it quits
but eventually quench my qualms in the name of
"quality time" with a cute guy
and every morning after, i'd wake up and realize
that the whole thing was ridiculous
i could be so much stronger than all of this
here's the thing
all a girl really wants is your attention
and sometimes she'll sell her soul to get it
i confess, that was my sin
but now i'm taking this back to church
this next part may convict you, but i gotta be direct to come correct
it's time for me to elevate my conversation
i need to stop settling for these boys with their short-term affections
and start holding out for that man whose eyes are level with Heaven
see the only one i need is Jesus
and i gotta stop bowing to you like you're my Savior
i'm through tryna dance with demons
it takes two to tango, but only one to walk it out
so if you don't mind, i think imma get to steppin.
i was going to write an irate blog post about my reasons for thinking occupy harvard is irrelevant (not going to describe it. just google it), but i'm just so over it. i'm sick of talking about it, sick of reading about it, just sick of it. can we PLEASE talk about something else? rally about something, anything, that doesn't have occupy in the name. depending on the topic you choose, i may even come out and hold a sign and chant until my throat's sore (just don't ask me to sleep in a tent). just change the subject already.
UPDATE: i'm mad at myself for saying that i was over it but continuing to discuss this with people all day long. i guess this is something that needs to be discussed and shouldn't just be ignored. in any case, now that i've calmed down a bit from when i wrote this post and heard some arguments here and there, i think i'm most miffed at the fact that this had to be an OCCUPY protest and not just a protest. if you want more of my opinion on occupy harvard specifically, or feel the need to educate me a bit more on the protest movement in general, please don't hesitate to contact me. :P
from a NY Times article about (ex-)Dr. Conrad Murray being found guilty in the death of Michael Jackson:
In one of the most dramatic moments in the trial, prosecutors played Dr. Murray’s iPhone recording of the rambling singer talking about his dream of building the world’s largest children’s hospital.
“I’m going to do that for them,” Mr. Jackson is heard saying in slurred speech. “That will be remembered more than my performances. My performances will be up there helping my children and always be my dream. I love them. I love them because I didn’t have a childhood. I had no childhood, I feel their pain.”
When his voice trailed off, Dr. Murray waited several seconds before asking, “You O.K.?”
After several more seconds, Mr. Jackson answered, “I am asleep.”
i'm 20 years old. but you still seem to treat me like i'm 7.
not sure if you noticed, but i'm no longer clinging to your leg like a scared little girl. slowly but surely, i've taken my face out of the folds of your dress, become aware of the outside world. i know you probably hate to think of it this way, but i think i'm ready to walk on my own. baby steps at first. and maybe i'll have to come back to my familiar place at your side for a little while. but sooner or later i'll be making great strides toward a destiny you tried to prepare me for.
but the only way that will happen is if you let me go.
understand that disrespect is not my intention. i love you, and i appreciate every single thing you've done for me my entire life; that will never change. i just have a lot to say, and i need you to listen. i need you to stop thinking that i called to argue, to stop trying to guilt me into agreement. i'm not your carbon copy; i have half of your DNA, but that doesn't make me your clone.
i need you to acknowledge that i'm 20 years old, 5 months and 9 days shy of 21, and i don't need your blessing to make all my decisions. scary, i know, but you can't reverse time. it just keeps flying.
