The Subtle Poet

A fresh breeze of wind passes by and I observed all the children are celebrating. As for me, a bright pair of tennis shoes and summer wear, courtesy from my Grandmother. This was a rejoicing occasion for celebrating too. Happiness overwhelms me, but gloom overcomes me again. The day appears to be bright, but what is missing my parents.

I sat on the porch lost in my thoughts and waiting for that special phone call, only to hear the sounds of music blasting from the neighbors down the street.

I too desired a ”ghetto blaster” this is what the huge music box was called to pass the time by. I was very lost in my own thoughts and feeling very lonely.

Observing me all the time is a very sweet onlooker my grandmother. Her words echoed in my mind “A Penney for your thoughts”. I thought of many subjects to talk about, but could not start a conversation for I missed my parent. So I answered, no grandma Marie I am alright.

Later, that day I went inside of the home and asked my grandmother for paper and pen. I went back outside and sat on the porch and began to write my very first poem. I named the poem “Common Sense”. I thought of every reason a child could be responsible for losing their parents affection. I remember beginning the first few words of the poem as “Common Sense is to love your parent when the word is not mentioned”. Common Sense is to wash the dishes although it is not your turn. Although my expressions were poorly phrased, this is how I felt about my family. I had no idea about the subtle affects of this new found poetry.

That year my sister found many friends to play with and invited them to the home. Majority were young men under the age of 16. I guess they were looking for a little painted clown to talk too. But as usual, my sister that was very talkative ran her mouth at a 100 words per minute.Our friends would ask me questions, of course I had a lot to say, but would answer with a closed ended statement yes or no.

Now desiring more quiet time, I looked for my poem that I hid and could not find it anywhere.

Moving Pass those teenage memories and how I wanted to engage in those long drawn out conversations, but just could not move forward because of a broken heart. I finally, landed my first job as a Replacement Clerk. This title carried the responsibility of training and being trained for all entry level positions in the company. During the interview process I was asked several open ended questions, but responded with one curt sentence. I did not realize no matter what pinnacle of success that you reach in life, you will always remember your family. After the interview ended I went home. Again, I sat on my front porch thinking of a way to build upon my poem “Common Sense” Poem. I thought of several clauses namely help with selecting favorite classes at school; and taking a walk together to discuss the future to add to the poem. I had no idea what was preventing me from moving forward “a broken heart”. A few days had passed by, and I did not hear anything from the hiring company. I decided to take action. I called the hiring manager and asked her if I got the job. She told me yes, and to come in for work the next day.

That day I spoke with my grandmother Marie who found the job for me and she helped me to pick out a very pretty outfit for the job.

Feeling very self confident about myself, I was assigned to the file room to assist the file clerk. However, I kept remembering my job title “replacement clerk” and the responsibilities that came with the job.

Three weeks later, after working in the file room I approached the manager of the company. I thought about how I would be able to explain how unfair I thought my new assignment was to be assigned to the files. But, to my chagrin I was not able to explain how I truly felt. I was only 17 and needed this job, but did not have the wherewithal about what to say. Simply expressed I asked could I work another position in the company. The answer was yes, and I was able to fulfill my role as a replacement clerk working many jobs.

Surprised, that I could move around the company freely learning different task was awesome.

Later that week I began to write my “Common Sense” poem, only to come up with seven more clauses. I asked myself what keeps me from completing this poem? I already new the answer a broken heart.

That year I received two merits and a promotion to a higher grade. The department was comprised of younger women and a supervisor that was a “screamer”.

A screaming supervisor just made matters worse, and I could not make any progress. Still not able to open my mouth and tell the truth about what I was suffering from and how the supervisor made me feel,I lost my job.

The manager spoke for about five minutes, and I could not hear any of his words because of the affects of shock. I admit I did not know what to say. Because I did not approach the Supervisor and let her know how I truly felt about her mentally taxing abuse, but her manager, I was terminated for a very big word “Insubordination “. I had no idea that I was suffering from anxiety and was very emotional.

I realized this would not be my first encounter with someone I felt was not trustworthy enough to take my age into consideration, but would trample over me because of being naive.

Years passed by and I became a customer at the same institution. My checking account of less than $100.00 was closed and I was classified as a high risk. I asked the reason why and a Supervisor flagrantly abused her power by saying we have the right to refuse to serve you. I did not press the issue further by speaking to the banking manager, I had developed another mental deterrent “my mother had just died”.

The final blow of termination occurred this year after completing Medical school. As usual I prepared for work every day and arriving early. The job was not demanding and only a few patients were seen everyday. As usual my work routine was interrupted and a entirely new routine had to be accepted. The physician would not allow enough time for the medical assistant to enter the patient data into the computer. This was only after the second day. The physician interrupted patient flow and would not allow me to take the patients vital signs. The final blow not literal to my membrane is ”I am looking for a experienced medical assistant. I can recall the rules of arbitration, the employer reserves the right to terminate the employee with or without cause.

Again after every blow of termination, without a thorough comprehensive reason from myself, I found out what prevented me from expressing myself. A mental block had formed because I never got a chance to tell my mother how much I love her and to complete my ”Common Sense“ poem at the age of ten. As the adage goes” little old quiet me just can’t seem to express herself and does not know what to expect.”