Welcome to this memory. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, and I hope you leave refreshed and encouraged.
You’re a mid-teens girl, and you love to read. You’ve been reading longer than you can remember, and writing poetry for a few years. You dreamed of being a writer when you grew up, and if you had to pick someone you’d want to be, you’d say Ray Bradbury.
You’re in English class, and your teacher is talking about William Shakespeare’s sonnets. She says that writing good poetry takes time, weeks or months. You hand in a passable sonnet at the end of class, about forty-five minutes later.
She likes it. She tells you she likes it. She shares it with some of her colleagues, and they like it too. And a couple of weeks later, you get pulled from class along with a few others in your school and taken to the library.
There is an old man there, a very tall old man who somehow seems young. He is a Poet Laureate (you hadn’t known there was such a thing), and explains what that is, and reads one of his poems and talks about it. He is friendly and charming and encouraging, and answers questions with respect you and your mid-teen classmates don’t usually get.
Your teacher takes you up to be introduced after his talk is over. He looms over you in a very friendly way, and tells you that poetry is “Damn hard work, but worth it, and don’t give it up without a fight.”
You carry around the slightly-shocked thrill of having an adult swear to you all day, and intermittently since then. More often, you remember not so much what he said, as that he thought you were worth saying it to.
The memory is offered as a trade, but please take the encouragement and the delight as a gift. You deserve encouragement and delight.
Wish I could be as confident as you are. By the way, since you've managed reaching your dream (congratulations!!) do you think I could reach mine? (Being an artist. I usually get discouraged pretty easily..) Ty lovely zennn 😂😂💞
Lollll I still have a long time before I reach my dreams, but thank you. Becoming an actor (even though I’m not famous yet) has been a huge achievement. ^^
I believe if you keep working hard, you definitely can achieve your goals. But it’s also important to keep believing in yourself and pushing through the doubts. You can do it~!
A 16-year-old girl in California wanted
to make sure nobody ever has to eat
lunch alone again, so she developed an
app called ‘Sit With Us’ that connects
kids who need a place to sit during lunch
with those who have room at their table.
She decided to create the app in hopes
that it would give middle and high
school students a way to reduce
bullying and encourage inclusion. Source
God knows all about that thing you did that still makes you cringe. He knows all about the reasons behind your clenched fists. He sees the stories behind your guarded heart.
And He still wants you. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second.
God still wants you. He still loves you.
And let me say something to the young girls who are reading this. Hi, girls. On behalf of the grown-ups of America who care about you and your futures, I am awfully sorry about how miserably we screwed this up. We elected a giant farting T. rex who does not like you, or care about you, or think about you, unless he is scanning your bodies with his creepy T. rex eyes or trying to physically grab you like a toy his daddy got him (or would have, if his daddy had loved him). (Sorry, that was a low blow.) (Actually, not sorry, I’m pissed, and I’m on a roll, so zip it, superego!)
Our president-elect is everything you should abhor and fear in a male role model. He has spent his life telling you, and girls and women like you, that your lives are valueless except as sexual objects. He has demeaned you, and belittled you, and put you in a little box to be looked at and not heard. It is your job, and the job of girls and women like you, to bust out.
You are going to run this country, and this world, very soon. So you will not listen to this man, or the 75-year-old, doughy-faced, gray-haired nightmare men like him, when they try to tell you where to stand or how to behave or what you can and cannot do with your own bodies, or what you should or should not think with your own minds. You will not be cowed or discouraged by his stream of retrogressive babble. You won’t have time to be cowed, because you will be too busy working and learning and communing with other girls and women like you. And when the time comes, you will effortlessly flick away his miserable, petty, misogynistic worldview like a fly on your picnic potato salad.
He is the present, sadly, but he is not the future. You are the future. Your strength is a million times his. Your power is a billion times his. We will acknowledge this result, but we will not accept it. We will overcome it, and we will defeat it.
Hush now, weary soul. It is time for you to lay your armor down and rest yourself in the arms of a good sleep. Worry no more. Dwell no more. For when the Sun rises again, it will all be a reset once more. You will have a new start, a whole new story to write.