Not my Name, Not my Major

Location

I sat in the front row so you could see my face,

but I didn't put it there for you to judge--no, not by any means or pace.

You see all I want is to be recognized

for who and what I am.

but you can't even say my name--no, it's not Mary, Becka, or Sam.

You say that what I want to do is ordinary and plain,

that this gold in my eye is in fact gray

but how can you say that when they're my eyes to see?

What colors your world more differently than mine?

And why, time after time, do you keep me undefined?

I answer almost every question, I'm friendlier than many

so why is it that you can't see my name IS NOT JENNY?

It's not Corra, nor Renae, nor Laura, okay?

It's Lauren. And a woman in Mechanical Engineering sounds amazing--regardless of what you say.

Comments

singitNowN4Ever

My favorite part really is the parts where I continually mention that the teacher had not said my name right, even though I sat in the front row, always talked with her, etc. for the entire semester. It's actually not an angry part though, because the class--myself included--found hilarity in it. Well, in that our teacher, being slightly deaf, would mishear what we said at least half the time. The best case of this was when she misheard the word "ELEPHANTS" and thought the boy had said "REPUBLICANS". We all, after a some time of trying to correct her and failing, eventually let her go on believing this is what he said while we deemed this some sort of political freudian slip of her mind. Shortly thereafter, we made this, and my wrong name, a class wide joke.

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