I Would Never Raise My Hand

For Kate Durbin on her 30th/"last"/NYC birthday, in convo with her “PARDONMYWHOREMOANS":

I Would Never Raise My Hand

In class, she is mute. At home, she screams I HATE YOU at her parents.

            —Kate Durbin, “PARDONMYWHOREMOANS”

I would never raise my hand in class. I would whisper the answer to the boy sitting in front of me. I would never speak Spanish in Spanish class. I would scrawl musical sentences. The teacher liked my handwriting, asked me to write the placecards for her sister’s wedding to José Greco, famous flamenco dancer.

I would never raise my hand in class. I don’t speak your language I was a girl in a forest with three other girls and we made up our own. I would sign into America Online, get cryptic IMs from nerdy boys. They tried to psych me out but I kept getting better grades. I had all the answers why should I tell. When I wanted I’d whisper but I would never raise my hand in class.

I won prom queen, it was one of my stunts. I wore whatever I wanted and the next year I wore my prom dress to school. There was a stage in the cafeteria, a boy was calling out questions. I would never raise my hand in class but I would raise my hand in the cafeteria. I raised my hand and my dress was leopard print and shimmering and strapless and with the force of my arm going up for the first time in centuries my boob popped out.

I would never raise my hand in class, for fear of people looking. I blush from all gazes, it is because I am pale and the gaze is always lubed-up. I wore whatever I wanted but those corridor glances were sidelong, I would never raise my hand in class. It was a role I couldn’t play.

In the seminar room I wait for the pause. I speak when I want but it is not always appropriate. Who would raise her hand to say something inapropos? You just say it, you whisper in the ear you wait for the sidelong glance. You just say it, your speech is hysterical, schoolyard coolspeak, 90s ironic, academy jargon in valley-girl patter. I don’t speak your language I was a girl in a forest, sister-talk brutal and covert.

I would never raise my hand, the effort it would take would smash me like meat under a mallet. I’d be thin for the grilling, I would never.