I’m a firm believer in a shatterable glass ceiling.
And before you ask
I haven’t shattered it yet.
In fact I haven’t even seen it yet.
Haven’t come close to its heights
Haven’t come close to its incubatory translucence
Which apparently works like an oven
So no woman even thinks about coming close to it
For fear of being burned like she is every day by her oven at home.
Haven’t come close to that ceiling,
But I’ve heard stories.
Horror stories of the backbiting ceiling which works to hold women back,
Works to keep her in a culinary submission
Only liberated to reach the highest blinds which need vacuuming.
But one thing above all haunts me.
As far as I’ve seen,
Ceilings don’t have feelings.
Ceilings don’t laugh in your face
Ceilings don’t pin you down and take your lunch money
Ceilings don’t take pride in keeping you inside.
You can look through the glass and see what the sky has to offer.
Look through the glass and see the stars and sun and moon staring at you.
And ya know what,
You can stare right back at them.
Or you can walk through the front door and see them unobstructed.
Walk through a door
Superwoman through a window
Mrs. Claus up a chimney
Or take a freaking shoe and Alison Ernst at the ceiling.
See in person what the world has to offer.
I’m a firm believer
In the power of doors windows chimneys and shoes,
And in the weakness of glass.