The Bluestocking 2023-24

I read it again… and again, and again, and again, and again – no mistakes , Perhaps it’s my breath that picks up in pace or my eyes that begin to blur with each passing second, As I see two tears fall onto my pencil markings – no mistakes , I swallow hard – no mistakes , I shut my eyes so all I see is black – no question #11, no test, just an endless void of darkness , I imagine a big fat 100% on a stack of papers – no mistakes , I do not open my eyes.

I imagine I am in Grade 1.

Grade 7: Am I happy? Sad? Scared? Mad? I question myself, Because what do I love, what do I like? Tell me, because

My hobbies have turned into a phone and My free time has been long postponed. I try to search and seek For something I can love; For something that will speak to me. I’m grasping for a star that’s simply not there (or perhaps the sky is too polluted for me to see) Because… I say, “I want to be an artist!” They say, “It’s an unstable career.” I say, “I want to be a writer!” They say, “You won’t persevere.” I say, “I want to go into STEM.” They say, “No. No, because a girl like you, a girl like you can’t do that.”

I whisper to myself, I miss Grade 1 .

7