THINGS
I HAVE TO TELL YOU
Open on a high
school cafeteria. A female art teacher stands at the front behind a
podium. A few students sit at nearby tables.
Art Teacher: Well
welcome to poetry night. I’m quite excited to be the mc of this
first-time event. Tonight, we’re going to hear poetry specifically
written by our female students. (Looks at list) Our first reader will
be Teek. Step up to the mic, Teek.
(Teek approaches the
microphone, pulls out a piece of paper and begins to read.)
Teek: This poem is
called “Me Saying Stuff.”
I’m saying stuff
Like why conform to
what white society wants,
Let’s conform to
What black society
wants instead.
Let’s do that
Even though what we
think of black culture in this country
Has nothing to do
with traditional African culture or values.
Let’s just put
ourselves in another box
Make everything
about race and oppression,
Not think for
ourselves
And be swept along
with the tide out to sea instead.
(Teek returns to her
seat.)
Art Teacher: Very
good. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything so outside of the
box. Our next reader will be Marion.
(Marion steps to the
mic and reads.)
Marion: This poem is
called “I am the Best-looking Woman in the World.”
Man, I really am
The best-looking
woman in the world.
I mean, wow!
There really is no
woman on this planet
More beautiful than
me.
I just had to write
this poem
Because if I don’t
constantly tell myself
As well as everyone
else
How stunning I look
Then who will?
(Marion returns to
her seat.)
Art Teacher: Very
good, Marion. You’ve no idea how rare and gratifying it is to
encounter a girl with your healthy level of self-esteem. Our next
reader will be Xiang.
(Xiang steps to the
mic and reads.)
Xiang: This poem is
called “I May be Female but I’m Just Like a Man.”
I admire all the
transgender superheroes
And other characters
out there
Because, and I want
to make this abundantly clear,
I am not trans at
all,
Though I am, was and
will always be a female
Till the end of time
And even beyond that
Still I am exactly
equal to
And like a man in
every way.
I am just like a man
Because I love cars
Or at least I know
they exist
Which is exactly the
same thing
As being a car guy.
Yet, I still am
forced by society
To choose not to
walk down certain streets at night,
Not out of fear of
rape, robbery or murder
But because I might
see a spider.
I am so afraid
Of those bloody
things.
My mother has fallen
into the female subservience trap.
The other day I
asked her why she gave up her dreams
Of being a
work-from-home wine critic,
And she had the
unmitigated gall to respond
“So I could devote
my time to caring for
You, your father and
brother,
You ungrateful
little brat.”
Well, I’m not
going to turn out like her,
The stupid cow.
(Xiang goes back to
her table.)
Art Teacher: Very
good, Xiang. You truly will help enable womankind to live on Mars
someday. Our next reader will be Anna.
(Anna steps to the
mic and reads.)
Anna: This poem is
called “Will Everyone Stop Obsessing Over Me Already.”
The other day I went
to the coffee shop
To get me some java.
The girl behind the
counter asked,
“Medium regular?”
Medium regular!
How did that serving
wench
Know I was a
lesbian?
I could tell just by
the way she said that
That she’s totally
obsessed
With this fact about
me.
I can tell by the
way everyone looks at me
And talks to me,
Just like her,
That they are
totally obsessed
By my attraction to
my own sex.
Well, just stop it
already!
My sexual
orientation
Is none of your
business.
Stop it! Stop it!
Stop it! Stop it!
(Anna returns to her
seat.)
Art Teacher: Very
good, Anna. You have an awareness of the way the world sees you that
most people even slightly older than you don’t possess. Our final
reader will be Jennifer.
(Jennifer steps to
the mic and reads.)
Jennifer: This poem
is called “Bad Hair Day.”
On the day we broke
up
I had a lock of hair
slightly out of place.
Thinking it over
later
Of course this is
the reason you said goodbye.
It couldn’t have
been the way I never use deodorant,
Or don’t do
anything whatsoever about my zits,
Or don’t practice
much else in the way of personal hygiene,
Because those are
all personal choices
I make for myself,
Whereas I couldn’t
control that stray hair.
Art Teacher: Very
good, Jennifer. Now if you could quickly go back to your seat,
please, I would appreciate that. Well, audience dismissed. I guess I
hope we can do something like this again sometime.
(The teacher and
students exit.)
Closing credits.
Based on “Things I
Have to Tell You: poems and writing by teenage girls” edited and
compiled by Betsy Franco.
