"Different Drummer"

            I don’t remember when I learned to march lock step within society’s expectations. I flailed against rules and regulations in early childhood, fought against everyone’s efforts to shove me into a round hole. Adult persistence, Time, and fatigue wore down my share square edges until I fit, too tightly, into the binding expectations of our culture.

            I joined activities at school instead of heading straight home to immerse myself in words. I got a car, a part-time job, a college degree, a marriage license, a career and a mortgage.
Somehow, I found myself part of the system, hacking away at the natural shapes and quirks of students to for them into round holes.

            The Lizzy of my childhood was totally forgotten until a few years ago. Drowning in an isolation from being a caregiver, I pulled out my journals and discovered the adolescent Liz. With joy, I found I liked the optimistic, change-the-world girl who struggled so hard to fit in when she’d rather sprawl on her bed with Thoreau.

Copyright Elizabeth Abrams Chapman 2019