We switched places at the gate
for my ultimate test of surrender
her smile and jokes betrayed her cool
take it slowly, speed limit’s 25 here
Am I OK?
Yes, you’re perfect
Still?
Yep, doing beautifully
As she drove (slowly, oh so slowly) to our cul-de-sac
I remembered my driver’s ed teacher
he was old (probably my age now) and balding
with two student drivers in the car with him
Emily T., tall, popular, blonde, took turns with me
She (with the perfect curls) could do no wrong
her mistakes were met with encouragement,
her proficiencies were met with praise
but me – with my glasses and foreign mien –
my errors were harshly judged,
and my victories gleaned silence
This injustice – as all maltreatments do – ripened into a gift
for his words and demeanor (and all the other abuses I’ve known)
created a wound
which turned into a scar
and thickened my skin
everyone knows thin skin bleeds easily