I used to watch the shadow of my grandfather and how tall I became when hoisted up on his broad shoulders. Time has worn him out; he is no longer the fastest walker and although the same wisdom seeps through his lips, the confidence is lost and his lips tremble with every ache. I can hear his sorrow under the enthusiasm, under every “don’t worry” and “I’ll be better soon”.
I often feel like him, the tallest guy around, looking down, shaking my head and smiling upon the teenagers, as if I am the elderly version of myself examining the kids, probably too closely. I feel as if they are nothing but immature and their comments are frivolous, juvenile. I can predict where they will go wrong in life and I pretend that I know better…but I am still ignorant I am my younger self.
I have disregarded two tests in order to give myself these three hours of freedom. I pushed up my back window, and carefully crept down the fire escape, landing in the grass. Dragging my proper leather shoes with me I made my way to the solitary tree in the little garden, to where the red tire swing hung. I fell onto the rubber and let my hands drop above my eyelids. It wasn’t a very comfortable position and I knew that bacteria had already poisoned my skin, but I was too tired to care. I just lay back and comforted myself with the thought of my backpack being an immense four stories above me. It was late and it was summer, my public school friends were probably at the park or throwing a party, but I was here shivering from fatigue and choking with stress.
I was on the subway today, staring at my reflection in the black glass ahead. I saw my prep school badge and my blazer. I saw bags under my eyes and hair which had been gelled to give it the already tousled look. I saw my freckles, and my clean animated smile that had been woken at a little shy of six this morning. My mother believed in healthy breakfasts and my dad believed in studying both before and after school. Let me tell you, if anyone was part of this club it was me. Glancing around, I picked out faces- most of us had the same look. I saw the construction workers who undoubtedly had risen a few hours before me. They were seated silently together, holding coffees with their heads twisted back. Across from them was a businesswoman, reading through a pile of papers and following along with a bright manicured finger. All over people’s eyes twitched and fluttered as they fought the necessary sleep. Students caught up on reading assignments or studied for tests. There were people who had headphones in, staring into others eyes, not seeing anything…focusing on drowning out the sound of the morning. None of us knew each other- yet, I mentally added them to the club, the exclusive club of New Yorkers. Bags under their eyes, frowns covered by the determination of their smiles, skin so pale it had to be painted and coated with color.
Is it really worth it? The hassle will never leave, just continue to build up; there is no such thing as a break with this lifestyle. I am in the system now and though I have the option to leave, I can’t do anything about it…I know it’s bad for me, yet I come back to it…every single day- it’s a drug, its bad for you, it’s all I know.
Every morning I see my shadow on the tracks, I see my shadow on the pavement being covered by trucks and cabs and people…being buried. One action, that’s all it takes, only one action for eternal numbness, such a small price to pay but such a great thing to ask. I can’t, I can’t waste all of the money that has been spent on me, or the thoughts, which I have had, or the hopes I need to make a reality. The truth is though, sometimes I fell like my whole life is just so I can raise my own child one day. Everything from the start, I am taught to read, to calculate, to study and then I get a job, I have a kid, I teach them what I know, I pay for their education. And they will do the same for my grandchildren. What is the point? Is this someone’s idea of a game? Because if it is I don’t understand the logic. Why would I want to go through such pain and put up with this life just to give it to another, the chain goes on and on…for nothing.
Each of us have our own layers, when each year is over we check off one and add another. Each of us carry our own versions- we are more than who we are at this precise moment. Our essence is what we have built ourselves on, who we have been over the years.
I took a breath, a harsh slow one. One which spits out all you are hiding, all your anger and your sadness, all your humiliation and betrayal, one that throws out your memories. Allowing me to close my eyes and see nothing but a blank page. It doesn’t last long for so much energy, in fact it was only a couple seconds before I pushed my feet on the ground again and went up into the air. Maybe I can just do this, maybe I can breakthrough the boundaries I give myself and the corners of my mind which suffocate me. Perhaps I will make it to the other side, alive…my shadow will mock me and haunt me, and as each day passes it will be larger, causing my essence to be exceedingly unreachable. I will continue to add layers and check off boxes, and one day I will be the grandfather others look up to. I will be the one battling for them, I will have bags under my eyes and swollen feet- but I will die full. Full to the top of life, my shadow will shrink as I become crooked and hunched. Only then will I have completed my utmost challenge, when I have ruined my shadow. I will, I will because I am a New Yorker with a straight “A” prep school potential and because this is just another challenge I must overcome.
I will finish high school, I will study in college, I will get a job and become successful, and then I will support my family and teach my kids to do the same. Because that is the way life is, that is what you have to do- it would be cowardly to give up.
And I will breathe open another blank page, I will stain the paper with the finest ink pen and will have completed my mission