Wednesday, May 1, 2013

The World's Smallest Violin (In Class)


“I brought back the Beats, I’d like a violin.”

Dad lifts his fingers with a smile and ‘plays’ one with his pointer finger and thumb, “here you go.”

I’m not smiling.  I don’t find his sarcasm entertaining.

“You’re not going to make it to Europe.”

Appalled, I shoot back an argument. “Yes. I. Will.”

He defends his painful stab with a, “well I’m just saying it because, look at today’s economy.  And I mean, with the field you’re going into for study.  And look at what your college bill is going to be if you actually go out of state.”

He doesn’t even want me to go out of state.  He’s ‘worried about my mental state of mind.’  In a daughter’s eyes, this translates into “you can’t do it.”  This only makes me want to try harder, to show the world I can.  But my guilty conscience forces me to rethink my thoughts.  Look at it from a different perspective.  They’re my parents.  They’re allowed to be worried.  That’s all it is.  They just want the best for me.  After all, an out-of-state college does hold multiple cons:

Eternal debt; loneliness that can only be fulfilled by my friends and devoted family; incomprehensible amounts of stress; the freshman fifteen (or in this case the transfer fifteen); many, many sleepless nights; payments on top of payments; new medical support systems, satisfaction all but guaranteed; and the scariest of all... Change.

1 comment:

  1. This is the kind of piece that forces me to read it two, maybe three, times, and when I'm done, I still won't understand it completely.

    But that's okay! It's not that it's confusing or poorly done or incoherent.

    It's intended to evoke, to tease, to force the reader to work, and it has no intention at all of answering everything. It pushes toward poetry, which always demands reader work and interpretation.

    And in 162, that is fine, indeed.

    ReplyDelete