a woman reclaimed

(first day of national poetry month–felt like a day to write a poem–well, a draft of one anyway)

To contain, to protect the fragile radiance

of her dimming light, she crafted a mosaic—

a million and three tiny torn distractingly vibrant 

pieces of paper patiently pasted until

the armor, a perfect pretense, was complete…

seemingly secure and projecting only the rays

she knew would be safe in the sharing.

But paper is a flawed medium when storms threaten 

and even paste can’t hold

amid a deluge.

A million and three tiny torn pieces 

flutter as a loosening begins.

What was a gentle breeze, quickens

foretelling an approaching hurricane—

relentless and unforgiving, this force of nature 

will deliver only one thing with certainty…

Change.

Again.

A razing to force rebuilding.

A flooding to baptize rebirth.

Again.

And she is—

—Exhausted.

There have been too many revisions

lately; mandated by a harsh editor.

So, she attempts to will the paste to hold

…she attempts to funnel her strength

(all of it)

into this maintenance project.

Clenching fists and squeezing eyes 

tightly shut, she prays

as Gwendolyn taught her to:

“Be firm till I return from hell.”

And in that prayer,

she remembers…

…days when her light was abundant,

when it shone freely without fear

of shortage or outage, knowing

its vulnerability was a strength to be admired

rather than a target at which to take aim.

She recalls…

…the days before she was told to

temper herself

mute her hues

to accept that, well, to succeed,

this is the way.

But, this can’t be the way and 

She has known it, and today

she accepts it as true

and her prayers transform because

Lucille has also instructed:

“Today we are possible…everything waits for us”

And with that, a tiny piece of paper

Unlatches itself and sails off on the breeze.

Her eyes open,

fists release,

confident in her own strength,

her righteousness restored,

more pieces detach,

fly away

and as they do

she is fully herself,

a woman reclaimed

out of hiding

who knows that in fact, 

this is truly the way.

Her radiance roars,

her joy revived.

Her strength is beautiful 

And requires no disguise.

She is a force and the others,

well, they can suggest, but the choice

is hers alone.

And now, she knows it.

(in gratitude to Gwendolyn Brooks “my dreams, my works must wait till after hell”, Lucille Clifton “birth-day” and to the writers of “The Mandalorian”)

phenomenal

 

“Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.”
(excerpted from “Phenomenal Woman” by Maya Angelou)

In early December, I received this gorgeous thank you note from a student of mine. The thought behind this handwritten note alone would have been enough to remind me that the weight of my job delves deeper than the daily decision making that occupies so much of my time as principal/teacher. Our young people, my students, lead busy lives that create a constant hum of events, studying, clubs, family life, work and  more. College pressure and the pressures of figuring out who it is they wish to be in this world rests upon their shoulder’s as Atlas’ burden sat upon his. Amid all of this, she escaped her own needs and responsibilities and found the time to write a thank you note.

I also would have been moved by her simply mentioning of how grateful she is for the introduction she received to poetry in my class last year…for the opportunity to explore her new found passion fully in her writing (instead of forcing her to maintain the plan I had set out for the class). Students often come to my classroom with only negative feelings toward poetry. Once they are immersed in it, once they have the freedom to find their own meaning, once they venture into writing their own stories poetically, doors open, confidence blooms, they become writers.

But, what struck me most was the line that is underlined: “Thank you for being a strong female leader I can look up too [sic]” Well, it would be easy to forget this responsibility in the busy days of the school week. One could quickly become numb to the rest, to the fact that the kids are always watching. One could lose sight of the example we set just by being ourselves. Across this nation there are heaps off female high school principals–I am the product of an extremely impressive one, after all. But at my small school, the only leadership that has ever presided over the high school has been male. I know that I felt a small victory in breaking that barrier and assuming this position but I don’t think I realized until I read this note the impact that my students (especially my girls) felt by witnessing that changeover and the days that followed.

It has become increasingly important to me to uphold that responsibility, that honor with the dignity it deserves. I don’t necessarily do my job any differently or better than I would have before; I do, however, act with intentionality and a mindfulness of what my words and actions create. I feel an extraordinary  duty to exemplify that a leader can have an empathic heart and also enforce rules and enact change. I am more keenly aware that it is ever-important for me to display that a good leader has vision for the future and creates plans to achieve that vision but without sacrificing the heart of the institution. Honestly, every leader should be conscious of these qualities. But, I am also cognizant of the need to demonstrate that a woman is equal to that task. It is imperative that I use my voice wisely and not be afraid to assert it just because I fear being seen as noisy or abrasive. When I speak for the good of my students and the good of the school, I am working toward bettering learning opportunities and I should not cower from that because of possible perception. Because when it comes down to it, the reverse, the depiction of female leadership as always needing to be told what to do, of always waiting and never acting, of being quieted rather than elevated, is a far more dangerous example to set.

I am blessed to work in an institution that values my voice and my brain and so the confidence I am fighting is more from what the world around me has said for my lifetime rather than what is actually being enacted around me. Breaking that common societal narrative for the girls in my school has become paramount. My hope is that they will seek leadership roles in their lives, as many already have, and that they will assume those positions with grace and confidence because they are more than equal to the task and no one has ever made them think or feel otherwise.

So, these days, I am willing to walk the line a bit more. I am working to own the confidence it takes to do that. I keep this note with me all of the time as a reminder of purpose when the job feels too much…like another path would be easier. Ease isn’t always better; simplicity can also bring emptiness. The task is hard, the job demanding (seemingly impossible at times), but I am up for it…

“’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.”

 

(Day 58–tomorrow is king cake day!!! I would expect a super early post because I am anticipating king cake for breakfast and maybe again on the parade route!)