One two three let me count the colors four five six they roll past illuminated seven now I stop the intersecting prisms collide elongating expanding exploding until their shattered images disperse and reconvene red bleeding yellow humming into orange and green with blues dangling and violet stringing and I twirl with delight ribbons blowing through the angles of the light I count again one two three four five six open close enclose ping.
in the beginning i felt = to the task i could do the beginning no more adventurous than learning to read a different language yes but i was up for the journey certain in my innocent belief there would always be kind guides
down the road i began to stumble bumping my brain on fabulous fractions fascinating in form and interesting to view although conversion proved to be my first true downfall but i braved my way forward even though this logic did not seem logical to me
then junior high happened and i was told in many ways and words that i was a girl (duh) and math was for boys and my questions about X and it not making sense were met with irritation and the humiliation of the male teacher yelling, quit asking why just quit asking why it is a rule just follow the rule there is no why i didn't understand Y
punishment too when i brought home the grades, tacked to the bulletin board circled in red, mother's hand scribbled 'on restriction for 6 weeks until you quit messing around you are smarter than this' her disapproval screaming from the paper but i didn't understand mom and i would not be asking more questions better to just act like a girl and say i am no good at math
oh how i wish there had been sesame street for me those spinning wheels color and form and lines linking and fantastic flashing light, i think even i could have understood that math could be art and any true art is for everyone
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2 comments:
When We Dance
by Dot
One two three let me count the colors
four five six they roll past illuminated
seven
now I stop the intersecting prisms collide
elongating expanding exploding until
their shattered images disperse and
reconvene
red bleeding yellow humming into orange and green
with blues dangling and violet stringing and
I twirl with delight
ribbons blowing through the angles of the light
I count again
one two three four five six
open close
enclose
ping.
silly girl, math is for boys!
by Deb
in the beginning i felt = to the task
i could do the beginning
no more adventurous than learning to read
a different language yes
but i was up for the journey
certain in my innocent belief
there would always be kind guides
down the road i began to stumble
bumping my brain on fabulous fractions
fascinating in form and interesting to view although conversion
proved to be my first true downfall
but i braved my way forward
even though this logic did not
seem logical to me
then junior high happened
and i was told in many ways and words
that i was a girl (duh)
and math was for boys
and my questions about X and it not making sense were met with irritation
and the humiliation of the male
teacher yelling, quit asking why
just quit asking why
it is a rule
just follow the rule
there is no why
i didn't understand Y
punishment too when i brought home
the grades, tacked to the bulletin board
circled in red, mother's hand scribbled
'on restriction for 6 weeks
until you quit messing around
you are smarter than this'
her disapproval screaming from the paper
but i didn't understand mom
and i would not be asking more questions
better to just act like a girl
and say i am no good at math
oh how i wish there had been
sesame street for me
those spinning wheels
color and form and lines linking
and fantastic flashing light, i think even i
could have understood
that math could be art
and any true art
is for everyone
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