Creative Writing Task---Identity

A storm is approaching, I noted as I stared helplessly out the window. It was a crisp autumn day, the falling leaves looked ever so lifeless and shrivelled. This was my life, dull, without meaning; a habitual, menial routine generating no sparks of interest. There was a film from the 90s, the only film I ever watched until that point in my life, where the main character states that “living in Endora is like dancing to music.” I guess that applies to my life as well.

“Daniel? Would you like to answer that question?” the teacher asked. I vaguely recalled him regarding himself as Dr. Smith, or Dr. Smythe, or some other common, nondescript surname.

“I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention,” I replied, wondering why in the world he would single out the kid who was not disrupting his class in any way.

“That's right you weren't. Don't make me phone your parents again!” You have a doctorate, I thought, what in the world are you doing instructing a bunch of spoilt, boisterous 2nd grade kids and expecting them to listen?

The last threat set my back rigid. I became aware of the twenty or so pairs of eyes that were stinging and probing at my head. They were all so neatly groomed, their hair and teeth were all in pristine condition, and they were all immaculately dressed: with their freshly-ironed shirts tucked into their stainless grey shorts and their black school shoes that were so polished I was able to see my reflection in them — a reflection of such contrast, one that I would rather purge from my memory.

I didn't fit in here, this wasn't my place. I felt like Oliver Twist residing in the English upper-class of the 19th Century. I felt as queer as a three-dollar note. And that bitter feeling of rejection, perhaps segregation, from ...

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...y shoulder. Then he waited. He finally spoke out in his soothing voice, “I try my best to make ends meet. We, as a family, struggle with our mortgage, with our grocery costs, with our utility fees. I work extra shifts, I work 7 days, I get no rest, I get no holiday. I do this because I love you. I do this because I care about you. I do this because I want you to learn, to prosper and to not end up like me, driving cabs for money. Don't let others judge you for who I am, let the judge who you are, your characteristics and your skills.”

And with that, he left for work. I never saw my father in the same light ever again. I had been selfish, I had not seen the struggles of others and I had taken what I had for granted. Looking back on that day, I could see that I had something to be proud of in my father, for he showed infinite amounts of love, commitment and devotion.