May 19: Teenage-Hood, Aimee Nez, "Twelve Twelve Twelve"

My daughter just went to bed (although I think she's probably talking to her boyfriend on her phone).  She worked all night on her homework because she's missed a couple days of school.

I often forget how difficult it is to be a young person.  My daughter is 15, and she's struggling with all the things that teenage-hood brings.  Sometimes she's funny and relaxed around me.  Other times, I'm a supreme embarrassment, and she walks at least 25 feet ahead of me.  Things like blemishes and cold sores can be catastrophic.  Like I said, it's difficult being a young person.

That's what today's poem from Aimee Nez is about:  the trials of growing up.

Thank goodness Saint Marty grew up.

Twelve Twelve Twelve

by:  Aimee Nezhukumatathil

a.) When I was twelve, I lived

on the grounds of a mental asylum.

b). My Filipino mother was a psychiatrist,

so that meant we lived

in the doctor’s quarters—

one of the three big brick houses

that edged the institute.

c). My younger sister and I practiced Herkies—

our favorite cheerleading jumps—

off the patients’ bleachers near the softball field.

d). When I was twelve, I aced

the experiments

with celery and food coloring;

they let me skip a whole grade

and get right to The Dissections.

e). I secretly wished my supply

of grape Bubble Yum would never run out

but I couldn’t figure out how to blow bubbles

and snap the lavender gum like Sara could.

f). We sold gift wrap and crystals

for a junior high fund-raiser and my mom still asks

Where are all the crystals I bought?

and

Why don’t you display them in your house?

g). When I was twelve, I worried about

the darkening hair on my legs.

My mother bought me my first training bra—

no cup, just little triangle pieces stitched together—

and then a slice of New York-style cheesecake

to bring home.

h). Home.

i). When I was twelve, our house

always smelled of fried lumpia

or ginger.

j). We had zinnias

as wide as my outstretched hand

nodding at us in our garden.

k). My school had to create

a whole new bus stop

just for my sister and me,

and everyone stopped talking and stared

when we stepped onto the bus each morning,

smelling of grape gum and ginger roots.

l.) Just who are these girls?