Listener Lyric
Empathy
The Narrative 2 Unit in English was mostly based off of the Citizen by Claudia Rankine. Citizen is a book-length lyrical essay or poem discussing problems such as racial discrimination. A Lyrical essay, typically, combines traditional genres of writing such as poetry, essay, and memoir. During this unit, we were instructed to take inspiration from Citizen and other lyrical essays to create our own lyrical essay.
My final listener Lyrical essay is featured below.
Empathy: the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.
Compassion: sympathetic pity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others.
I sit on the couch with a friend. Sad music floats from the phone into my ears, filling my mind and heart with just the right amount of melancholy. We are comfortable. We are sad.
She comes and sits. She places her feet on the arm of the couch. Close enough so that soft sapphire soles penetrate your bubble.
She laughs loud
She talks loud
She smiles loud
I am appalled at her lack of ability to read a room. To read the people around her. Just…appalled.
Each word that falls out of her mouth leaves me…
annoyed
frustrated
Upset.
She doesn’t have it
and I know.
I wonder
Why?
Pressure, persuasion, influence or intimidation: make someone do something.
I begin to connect the dots. I begin to notice the pressure. I begin to notice how it forces me to say or do things I don’t want to. I notice how it slowly pulls at the empathy and compassion eventually
Pull them
Completely out
of reach.
I feel the pressure to be perfect… in every way.
I feel the pressure to be unique…but to also blend in.
I see how these pressures follow everyone, in every conversation, interaction, and thought.
I want to be better. I want to change.
I take time to breathe
to observe
to learn.
I try to tend to the needs and feelings of others. I try to be aware of how others are feeling.
I would never again enter a room the way that girl did.
I would never…
Laugh loud
Talk loud
smile loud
if I knew others could not handle it.
I walk in. A girl sits on the couch with a friend. Sad music floats from the phone into their ears, filling their minds and hearts with just the right amount of sadness. They are comfortable. They are sad.
I come. I sit. I don’t place my feet on the arm of the couch. I don’t intrude on their personal bubble.
I let them be.