Tonight I came across a creative writing piece that I wrote two years ago for my Teaching English to Adolescent course. Once again, I was reminded of why I had really enjoyed this piece. Feel free to read it below in its entirety. My favorite lines (bias nonewithstanding) are:
Costume Career
Shopping
In those eyes—25 desperate hopes, 25 whimsical dreams, 25
inquiring minds, 25 windows—some clear, some dim—to 25 fledgling souls, 25 rare
chances for 25 daily successes, beginning with a single line interpreted 25
many ways by 25 unique beings.
Good
morning, ladies and gentlemen. Today we’re going to learn…
* * *
By: Fatuma Hydara
In the middle of Ricky’s Costume Superstore, I stand, arms
tender and shaking from the weight of numerous costume choices. With limited
vision, I slowly make my way to the dressing room, mumbling “5” to the clerk in
answer to her barely audible question of ‘how many items?’ Walking into
dressing room 13, my lucky number, I throw my burden onto the seat, before
turning to shut and lock the door. Click.
Taking a deep breath, and a quick look at my watch—crap, only have 20 minutes—I quickly
grab the first costume and put it on.
Twisting one way, then the other, the four mirror-covered
walls capture the khaki shorts, polo tee, shades and imitation camera around my
neck. I stop, lean closer, scrunch up my nose, make a decision. Nature
photographer for National Geographic? No.
Costume Number Two: A
white coat, stethoscope, smiley face sticker and lollipops as props. Single
shake of head. Pediatrician? Nuh-uh.
Costume
Number Three: Business wear, microphone,
notebook and pen. …Still not quite right. Journalist? Not happening.
Costume Number Four:
Business wear again, more old-fashioned. Silver wire rimmed glasses attached to
a sterling silver chain. Pile of books in arm. Closer look in mirror. Nearly,
not quite. Love the books, not the rest. Librarian? No way.
Costume
Number Five: Business wear once again. Sigh…but wait? Another look—more casual,
comfortable. Grade book and novels in one hand. Apple in the other. Staring
intensely, straighten up. Turn this way, turn that way. A smile. It’s perfect.
Almost.
If only I was in—wind, gust, momentarily blindness,
ending—in a classroom.
A blink. Another. Gaze clears. One pair of brown eyes meets
25 other pairs in varying shades.
In those eyes—25 desperate hopes, 25 whimsical dreams, 25
inquiring minds, 25 windows—some clear, some dim—to 25 fledgling souls, 25 rare
chances for 25 daily successes, beginning with a single line interpreted 25
many ways by 25 unique beings.
Good
morning, ladies and gentlemen. Today we’re going to learn…
How to read, to
write, to explore, to live.
How to scream, yell,
give voice to pain.
How to survive, to
be, to succeed.
How to care, to love,
to share.
How to rearrange the
letters in D-R-E-A-M and make them R-E-A-L-I-T-Y.
How to fly, to run,
to jump.
How to smile, to
laugh, to grin, to smirk.
How to…
Sudden wind, gust, momentarily blindness. A blink. Another.
Gaze clears. One pair of brown eyes looking at their twin. In those eyes—a
single burning flame of passion, a single determination, a single goal to be
the greatest English teacher to ever live.
Another look at my wrist, “Time to go.” Frantic undressing,
messy repackaging. One last guilty look at the mess left behind, I unlock the
door and hurry to the register. ‘Will that be all?’ ‘Yes, found the perfect
one’. Proud Smile. “That’s be $200,000, please’. Cringe, wince. Reluctant handing
over of credit card. Deep breath. In six years, it’ll be worth it.
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