by Klarissa Conner
“Raise your hand, you know the answer,” said Jasmine. The girl focused straight ahead with her eyes glancing back and forth between Jasmine and Professor Hampton.
“What is Ada Limón saying here? Who can tell me what she means by “skin of my body, there pumps an 8-pound female horse heart?” Hampton calls to the class.
She had the answer five minutes before he asked. To be frank, she had the answer yesterday and years prior. She knew the answer when she was 14 flirting with the idea of becoming a lawyer after watching law and order. During her freshman year of college, the answer appeared again when she took her first criminal justice-related course. She learned that the reality of the diversity that was portrayed by Olivia Benson was unlike the hit series. The male-dominated profession became apparent to her that first day she walked into that classroom. The male students stared at her as if she was a ginormous elephant trampling into the room. Three seconds after being in the room she was asked if she needed help finding her class. The young man misinterpreted her shattering image for disorientation. The professor’s crafty remarks would be all too telling when his frequent male pronouns would slip during daily discussion. “All you young men have a big load of work ahead of you.” Or would begin class with “gentlemen,” his eyes would meet the girl’s and he would clear his throat; rephrase, “and ma’am.” Those days the answer could not have been more prevalent.
Jasmine tapped her finger on the girl’s shoulder from behind her. When that would not work, she began kicking lightly at her ankle to which the girl drew her foot further into the cover of the desk. All the while students began answering.
“Could it be her saying she compares herself to the horse?” The girl with a green knitted sweater said while her finger fiddled with the sleeves and rose up to tangle into her hair until she settled. Her eyes refused to meet another’s gaze. Professor Hampton acknowledged her statement with a small smile and pushed on.
“Yes, great observation Caily.” He walked and pulled his frame from the stand where the computer remained. He made his way to lean his backside on the table in front of the entire class.
“But what else, let us look deeper.” His eyes danced with a passion while he glanced at the students. “What is she saying about herself here?”
The girl watched as faces morphed into furrowed eyebrows and remained blank and uncaring staring at him. Her lips pulled into a smile. Not an egotistical smile. She felt happiness rise within her because she knew what he’d ask next. She knew Limón was referring to the need for representation. She knew because she explained the poem to her dear friend Jasmine last night when Jasmine struggled with the discussion post. She told her by poetically admiring female racehorses Limón relates to the horses’ quiet confidence. Limón herself also boldly carries such self-assurance in a male-dominated world.
Despite the girl’s knowledge and grasp of the poem’s essential idea, she could not form the words to speak to them. In her mind, she remains in inner turmoil. She could not speak. In her mind, however, she deemed anything she’d think to say stupid in comparison to what her peers were thinking but certainly not saying. Her face twisted and pulled in agony. She wanted to speak so badly that it physically hurt her. The passing time brought further agony to the girl. She tapped her foot aggressively against her backpack on the floor. She thought about Limón thinking about the racehorses. She thought about how she changed her major from criminal justice to creative writing because she believed it was the best option. Despite all of that she held her tongue. The girl trained for this very moment. As she always would the night before class. She would reenact what she’d say so that this time she could finally do so. She does the readings; she does the work. The girl knows her stuff but cannot find the courage to speak about them. And just as the moment came a student raised her hand. The student’s answer seemed to be. The girl had noticed that Jasmine stopped tapping ages ago. The girl sat back in her self-inflicted torment for another moment.
“Damn it,” the girl whispered to herself. As she did her hand sprang into the air. Professor Hampton’s and the girl’s eyes met. She spoke.
“Yes! Exactly correct.” Professor Hampton nearly shouted.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Klarissa Conner is an up-and-coming writer from Ontario, California. She is obtaining her bachelor’s degree at the California State University, San Bernardino as an English Major with a Creative Writing concentration. You can find more of her work in the literary magazine, Poems of Unique Experiences-Pacific Review.
ABOUT THE ARTIST
Sarah E N Kohrs is an artist and writer, with over 100 journal publications of her poetry and photography. She is the 2022 Kingdoms in the Wild poetry award recipient for her chapbook, Chameleon Sky. Sarah has a teaching license, endorsed in Latin and Visual Arts, and homeschools, as well as works in her pottery studio, creating clay art to savor. SENK lives in Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, kindling hope amidst asperity. http://senkohrs.com.