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University

University

Hysteria ii.

My Mother was a sales agent,
single parent, brimmed with sickness,
that foamed over the top on any given day
that ended in a 'Why'.

My Grandmother was a homemaker,
a gardener's assistant,
her wrists and eyes and ribcage
were often stained black and blue.

My Great-Grandmother owned a button shop,
my Great-Grandfather bought to keep her busy.
And the other was a tight rope walker, a traveller,
community finally abandoned.

I am the first,
I am the first woman in my line to attend university
and when I announced it, bridged the gap
between our history and education it was met
with concern,
confusion,
was I sure? What about the debt?
What about the studying?
Was I smart enough?

I've been pulling eighties,
it's not a brag, it's just a fact.
And I wonder if she too would have been 'first' worthy,
whatever the hell that means,
and the she before her,
and the she before that.

Fascinatingly, many theologists
I'm meant to cite as fact makers,
game changers,
those who light the way through institutional darkness,
never went to university,
never studied for years,
they had a mate, who had a mate,
who had a mate,
long before ethical concerns
and I can't help but think
while they were there,
tea-ing with Freud,
testing dogs and women and children,
how long have we been vulnerable,
our faces lit by the fires of the so called 'wise'?
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
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