In English, we explored an identity focus and wrote a lyrical essay about it. A lyrical essay is a contemporary creative nonfiction form which combines qualities of poetry, essay, memoir, and research writing, while also breaking the boundaries of the traditional five-paragraph essay. The essay is second person which allows readers to relate to the person more and see into the eyes of the person. I chose to focus on being a child of a single mom and the struggles that they face in every day life. I interviewed one of my friends who shared her story of the struggles of being a daughter of a single parent in the Bay Area.
Here is my essay:
Pretty Sparkler
You look out. The ocean crashes against the shore. You pop the window open and take a deep breath in. The sunlight shines off the vibrant blue like beautiful diamonds, glittering infinitely. You can hear Big Ben in the distance, signalling dinner time. A perfectly cooked meal from your mom, you can smell it already. You walk down stairs to see your dad, mouth full, waving as he sees you coming.
You blink, you blink again. You turn over, your covers tugging on you like a child tugging on their mom.
You hear the rumble of the engine. You look out to see your home. It disintegrates as you go farther and farther away. The clouds are so beautiful, like perfect puffs of cotton candy.
You look left and right.
Everyone is in groups, laughing as the day goes on. Then everyone turns to you. Whispers are all you hear. Where do you fit in?
You look left and right.
You are the one child sitting alone, not because of your personality or because you have no friends. It’s quite the opposite actually. Everyone else is sitting with their parents walking around the school’s family day carnival. You sit at the table, watching as children drag their parents from one booth to another, the sound of them laughing barely audible. You hear the church bell ring.
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
Twelve rings, six more hours until your mom picks you up.
You look left and right.
It’s the father-daughter dance tonight. Instead of wearing the most beautiful dress and dancing with your father, you stay in bed, home alone, because your dad lives 5,000 miles away. Looking in your closet, you imagine that beautiful dress, perfectly ironed and sparkling back at you. You think, maybe if you spin around, your night could be like Cinderella’s perfect night. Instead, you walk into your living room, the moonlight shines through the window. You wonder when your mom will be home. You turn on the television to entertain yourself. The TV sparks like a wand as it turns on but not the magic that you want. The TV turns on to this channel talking about a luxury cruise. It looks perfect. The parents, smiling, laying on lawn chairs and watching their two kids play in the pool, splashing along. You wonder when you will experience something like that. Bundled up in your apartment, alone, you start to accept that it will never ever happen. The closet you will ever get is sitting on the couch with the tv reflecting back on you, daydreaming about the perfect vacation. You have learned that this is your reality.
You look left and right.
It’s another day in elementary school. The teacher is taking a class picture. She wanted to send a thank you email out to the parents for their support. Everyone holds their checks with big smiles on their faces. As your teacher puts you all into a formation, she sees you, empty-handed. The look on her face says it all.
Shame. Disappointment. Judged.
She doesn’t say anything and keeps on shuffling kids for the perfect photo.
Click!
You look left.
You look right.
You are alone.
You are powerless, yet you are so powerful.
——-
In English Honors, we emulated our lyrical essay off of a lyrical essay book. I chose to read Debbie Millman’s Self Portrait as Your Traitor. After I wrote our essay emulating some of her lyrical essays, I wrote an analysis of what specific essays I got influence from.
Honors Essay:
Lying in my bed, bundled in a cocoon, I waited for his call. I looked down as time ticked so slowly. Excited, anxious. I wondered if he ever would. I check. Nothing. I check again, I realized.
The empty arrow shot right into my heart.
I realized what he had done. Anger builds up, sadness set in. I sent him a black screen, a petty act but I didn’t care.
He replies, “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you.”
Now that threw me off, how is one supposed to tell you that they were going to read your message and not respond?
I asked for an explanation, that was the wrong choice. I sunk into my bed, wishing it would swallow me up like a big whale. Glup. It didn’t. I had to deal with him.
The next day, I met up with him.
The glittering blue vehicle rolled into the parking lot. Crawled slowly closer to me, like a surprise attack. Little did I know, that’s what was going to happen. We sat in silence. Our hearts beat louder than the lawnmower outside. The silence built, I waited.
I crawled up into a ball. His mouth moved but I didn’t listen. I pretended nothing was wrong. I acted like I didn’t hear what I just did.
It’s a dream. He’s lying. He’s making this up. It’s all a prank.
You remember that day. That day where she called you because he wasn’t picking up. The two of them were supposed to play basketball together. You trusted them both, a lesson you are currently learning. You knew where he was so you went to knock on the glass. The shock on his face, you can tell that you woke him up. You two sat there while he calls her back. You left because she had arrived and the two of them were off to play basketball. You realize that that’s not what they did. They were together in the car instead. No basketball was played.
It was an accident he tells you but at this point what are you supposed to believe. You are so broken. You just leave and go home. Falling to the floor, tears fall down your cheek like glass cutting into your skin. You’re sitting by yourself in your room, your mom is knocking at the door for you to eat dinner. You ignore the calling, ignore the feelings crawling in you, ignore the fact that wailing urge, ignore the dilemma you are in.
You close your eyes, waiting for the day to be over.
You breathe in, you open your eyes. Nothing has changed, no time has passed. Your phone lights up with messages from her and him. You ignore them because the pain is just too much. The tears start to clear up, you look out and see a clear day. The sun is shining, not a single cloud in sight. You breathe. You realize that you are in charge, screw both of them. You are in the cockpit of your own life. Your own feelings are the passengers and difficult weather or people will not slow you down.
Analysis:
Debbie Millman is an author, designer, artist, curator, educator, and host of the podcast Design Matters. Her book, Self Portrait as Your Traitor, is a swift connection between design and writing in a hundred and twelve pages. When I first got the book in the mail, I panicked because I thought I had accidentally ordered a picture book, but once I finished admiring the drawings, I realized that there are stories within the text. Though each of illustrated essay is very different from the next, there are some writing styles and themes that are common like human connections, short sentence structure, the artwork of each essay.
A common theme between the lyrical essays is human connections through an authority figure. Millman writes with strong imagery and allusions to show the value of human connections and a role model. She writes stories about a mother and daughter and the influence of the mother’s friends. The story talks about how the mother’s friends have influenced her to try coffee. One of the pages of the story starts with, “At eight years old, I was fascinated with my mother’s girlfriends” (38). Though it is quite a unique story, one that not many others can relate to, the story shows an influence of authority. Another story is Lucky, where the two characters Margaret and Jack have a conflicting relationship. When Millman writes, “She called out for Jack and beckoned him over” (52) when Margaret and the lady at the register have a conflict. Though this is towards the end of the story, it shows the influence of Jack on Margret, almost in an older brother or dad influence. A story called Penelope, was the one that I related to most. It walks about work and the jealous coworker, who spent so much money and time to become better than her other coworker. I really connected with the part about how much she loves work. The part where she spends all her money trying to look better than her coworker is relatable, especially as a teenager where it seems like everyday is a competition to be the best. These human connections let Millman connect with readers because readers can connect to at least one of these interactions and relate to the conflict presented. I made this connection in my story by making it about a relationship. I took it further by turning the plot into when one finds out that the other is cheating, a huge mishap in a relationship. My story takes the reader through the emotions and thoughts of a girl who finds out that her boyfriend cheated on her.
Also she uses short sentence structures to make better connections with her readers. Often with her sentences she breaks her sentences to the next line. It makes it seem like the thoughts are incomplete and rushed, yet all the short lines illustrate this amazing story. Like in Lucky, “Margaret loved the fish store” (45) is a short line that has its own page to show emphasize. It also helps you follow the story and the main character’s thoughts. Another example of this is in the story Insects, where the first line is “When I kissed you” (58). Though this sentence is incomplete, it comes as a shock and you almost are caught off guard. The sentence also helps you understand what the story will be about. These short sentence structures drew inspiration for my story as I kept the sentences short. As one who normally writes really long sentences, it helped me be able to express ideas in shorter sentences. I also emphasized specific words like she does in the story Penelope with the word “life” (76). I used the short sentence to connect with the readers as most will have been or know of someone in a relationship and how relationships change you whether it is for better or for worse.
Lastly, the art that Millman does is such a big part of her work. Every one of her essays is created like a painting. Though she uses a mixed materials, from binder paper to a dark grain, the words are beautifully hidden in art. Some are clean while others look like a doodles created by children. Her first story is about repetition and she creatively draws her words repeating each other and with repeating color schemes. These different styles of illustrating her poem makes it really seem like you are reading her diary or look at a piece of art until you realize that the words have meaning. The handwritten fonts that she chose really emphasize the rawness of the essays. I emulated this style by creating my essay in a notebook using different colored pens and crayons. I took inspiration specifically Penelope, a story that is written within boxes with box letters. I emulated her boxes and handwriting font. I also wrote words around and behind the text, similar to how Millman does in her story. I kept with a color scheme and repeated words on top of themselves like in her essay Repetition. I felt like Millman’s stories were filled with color to represent the different perspectives and ideas. I decided to do the opposite as my story is about cheating and I kept with blacks, blues, and reds. The use of colors was to show how a once perfect relationship was ruined with one act. I used a bold font at the end of my story to show that though cheating may break you down, in the end you will learn your lesson and be stronger.
Debbie Millman’s use of human connections, short sentence structures, and art help her connect with the reader and illustrate a beautiful story. In my story, I emulated her common use of human connection by writing about cheating. I kept her short sentence structure throughout my story and I emulated the art she did for her essays in mine with different colored pens and crayons.