Just a Kid By M.C. Goldrick

Just a Kid By M.C. Goldrick

What do you know? You're just a kid.

We've all heard it. Some have even said it.

This is something adults say and kids hear. 

Adults say it to justify their viewpoint, to feel superior. 

Kids hear it and feel undervalued, misunderstood, separated, and alone.

Just a kid. 
Just a girl. 
Just not enough.

I was a kid once. Now I have kids. 

I remember who I was back then, though I'm not the same. 

Many things have changed but I've always had a mind of my own.

My kid mind was in many ways superior to the one I think through now. It had access to layers of imagination that I can barely remember today.

I do remember how deeply offensive it was. Something I vowed to never, ever say, to never even think. I vowed to remember the child I was once I grew up.

I remember the frustration. The disempowerment that this second-class status bestowed upon me.

Just a kid. 
Just a girl. 
Just not enough.

Today, I know I am more than enough, I know all the people around me, big and small, are more than enough.

I write for those kids, the one I was, the ones that are, and the ones that will be. 

I write for us. 

I write knowing, that in a sea of disparaging voices one solid nod of respect, one adult acknowledging our greatness, the depth of our beingness, remembering our intelligence, will drown out all that white noise and remind us that we are more than just anything.

We are everything.

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