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An old personal narrative from the Composition 1 class I took back in 2018 during my first year in the Oakland ACE program. Uploading here for posterity*, since Google Drive seems to have mysteriously eaten quite a few of my documents.
Clarity
There’s a moment when you rememberThe feeling you had when you were self-sufficient for the first timeLooking backThe moment is clear
Why must it be, that lessons are only learned from classics?
Or that fairytales never seem to talk about real human aspects?
Maybe Cinderella and the Prince didn't have a happily forever after,
The brilliant white morning light
Pierces
Through the clear sliding doors nearby,
And I
Wince slightly as it comes, releasing a vexed huff.
6-paged paper due in a week
Fuck that, I thought to myself
The teacher was staring at me
and so I decided to scream.
"You must out of our mind"
She gave me a dirty look
"Time I can not find".
Lines before whiteSweat on a pencilFingers in hair
Graphite sweat
The first bold wordsThe first eraser marksInsipiration not there
Graphite sweat
Dear lord could it be,
here I am for all to see.
In front of the class paying my dues,
speaking aloud to all of you.
I was quite scared and oh so lost,
when my teacher said we'd be here with a cost.
