My poem, my person

S,
I’ve compared you to many things since I’ve come to know you: Sylvia Plath, Ingrid Jonker, Stalin, misanthrope… in a sense you’ve been exactly the figure of speech that uplifts any bit of writing and startles a society.

You once told me (regarding my poetry writing) that if you cannot be poet, be the poem. The weight of this has only recently settled into my bones and the realization is earth-shattering.

You know sometimes you read something and its resonates with some sensation you’ve been struggling to stomach? It may be a quote; a tid-bit of a speech; an unsuspected, overlooked pearl of wisdom in everyday conversation; it may be a short poem with tight locks in her dark, dip dyed hair that loves wearing uggs and speaks more than most people’s listening capacity.

In life you meet a rainbow of people and the quantity and quality of their contribution to your life differs vastly. You have drowned me in epiphanies and amplified my sensitivity to the promises of life.

Today you’re a year older and in that year you’ve gained more wisdom, strength and knowledge that some people gain in an entire lifetime. For as long as I’ve known you I’ve admired you. Today I am grateful for all that you are not just as a beautiful person but for the vast impact you’ve had on my life. You’re my anchor. The hand around which my balloon string is tied; always keeping me grounded. You’re the smile I needed to pick me up when I couldn’t so much as lift my head. You’re the alien (Lana del Rey) that has infiltrated our planet and has added a vivid pop of colour and to our mirthless world.

Thank you S for being everything that you are and for staying despite many obstacles. I won’t see you every day and I’m slowly coming to terms with the reality that life is taking us in different directions. Different destinations await us. I anticipate the greatness you are going to achieve and I look forward to see the changes you are going to bring to the world and our education system :”)

You’re my poem, my person♡

Yours truly,
Quixotic Novelist

Ps: I’ve decided that instead of declaring you an un-person as you did me (Stalin) we’ll celebrate your birthday in case your deteriorating alzheimers forgets to remind you that you are indeed a year older (but still shorter than me!)

This is a sign

In sign language the words representing “father”, “brother” and “son” are indicated by motions signed at the head. While the words for “mother”, “sister” and “daughter” are signed close to the mouth. The origins of this can be traced back to the allusion that men think while women talk.

Our society has become ingrained in sexism so much so that even the deaf are made to implement it.

I am not a ferocious feminist but I will vehemently advocate gender equality until men and women are on equal footing.  Fortunately actions are universally understood and do indeed speak louder than words. To illustrate my point I will draw on some statistics.

South Africa recently witnessed the release of matric results. I attended an all girls’ high school. My class of 2014 consisted of 214 girls. We attained a 100% pass rate; 98% bachelor degree entrance; 326 distinctions (this figure is subject to increase after remarking) and 32 girls scored between 4 to 8 distinctions. Compared to our neighbouring co-ed and all boys’ high schools we achieved an all-round exceptional performance.

The matric finals consist of five intense weeks of written examinations. Emphasis on mental, studying, organizational and application skills. All of which involve constructive and inventive thought. Thus it makes no sense to abide by a stereotype which suggests that females participate in less or no thought compared to their male counterparts. As human beings we all are capable or higher thinking.

If I could time travel I would rewind to 1620 and gift Juan Pablo de Bonet-the man who published the first book teaching sign language-with my school’s results. Perhaps that might inveigle him to rethink his signs regarding females.

_Quixotic Novelist