Arms outstretched, I twirl
my skirt flies ballooning into perfect waves
I tilt my chin towards the blue parachute above me
Daffodils
Buttercups
Roses
Petunias
Me
Together we twirl
We are light, gleaming
We are green, sprouting
We are air, breathing
Wildly graceful curves like the waves of my skirt
Divinely Right
My gold-plated footprints mark the path with raw truth.
Sonia Chintha is an Indian American writer who lives in the Washington DC area. She blogs, writes poetry, and fiction. She is also an English teacher who believes that our experiences teach us more than any test. She is the founder and co-editor of Good Little Girls.
You two need to get on a treadmill, you saywe two are washing dishes, making chai facing away from youYou two are standing behind us,
I dig and dig and dig sweat dribbles down my forehead, shoulders heavy, mind focused I dig and dig and dig arms ache for me
The first time I saw the words “ms. chintha is a bitch” inked on to walls, I was 29 years old. I had been teaching for a mere four years, but felt so veteran already because I had stopped crying when fights happened in or near my classroom among students. Up until my fourth year, I blamed myself for not creating a safe enough space for my students and that’s why they began fighting.