"Predictable politicians piously pontificate political pomp and perversities"
The locale where my practicing Protestant parents' mixed to the max marriage consummated and where I lived till puberty was a predominantly Dutch Catholic enclave, where fear of excommunication, what other people thought and repression reigned supreme.
Preempting excommunication by immigrating to Canada's dessert country taught them the importance of spelling and me that there's no new beginning because phrases such as, "Can't you be like others", when I wasn't and "if everyone ate poison would you," when I was - both automatically followed by, "what will people think" - immigrated too.
Most, if not all conversations with my mother parent started and ended this way. The in between parts have either faded or been blocked.
I don't blame her. In her mind, the two values of being accepted by all and offending none were both good housekeeping seals, if not pillars, of approval.
Just to please or when convenient I did pretend to be their way.
My feigned behaviour modifications she interpreted as her successes.
Alas, my being me, she construed as my preventable failures.
Your name's going in the black book for the third time, aren't you scared?
No, the lies my mother told me made me crazy, not afraid.
Besides, I know what happens after the third time and it's not what people think.
As a youth I exposed myself to Greek, Roman and Renaissance Philosophers who, in turn, laid bare their understandings about the truth being stranger than fiction, setting you free and being scared of it.
Seamless, as if natural, seemed my selecting, adopting and adapting the philosophy of the most maligned Renaissance philosopher, a Prince of a Man, who fought and won many battles "completely unarmed" by embracing truth.
With eyes wide shut I stop on the bridge over "the ditch" and can "hear" the letters spelling South Okanagan High School beaming off the fascia.
Simultaneously I hear, don't draw attention, don't talk back, don't be independent and do as you're told.
.
Instinctively, most immigrants' insecurities and apprehensions are cause for inventing a new identity and an old sense of belonging, an internal metamorphosis if you will.
Certain predators mistake my morphing for weakness and pray that I'm prey and like a tadpole, unable to defend.
Speaking of predators,Billy Bennest is the Oliver Teen Town Mayor.
Terry Sarell is Teen Town chaperone responsible for Student Teacher liaisons.
S.O.H.S. is my sixth school and I'm starting grade eleven.
To be continued |