Essay: I am From Poem (Anouk)

Where I’m From By Anouk <poem> I am from a 12-story red building, shrouded in smoggy skies and misting rain, from singing songs in the hallway and enjoying communal snacks. I am from eating cornstarch-based packing peanuts, and a squishy, slimy strawberry with tendons.

I am from building functional things out of ⅛ inch balsa, from throwing frisbees through the fountain, playing soccer with small dogs, dropping eggs off of a two-story parking garage, protected only by overly padded boxes, parachutes, and failed ski mechanisms. I am from using plastic bags as replacements for lost sandals, from shedding bits of Logan Field turf all over the stairs.

I am from a Keep Smiling lemon, from synchronized showers, from clandestine studying past midnight. I am from KFC spicy crispy chicken ads Interrupting and delaying amazing singing

I am from a room said to smell of old cheese, from being beaten by the Canadian at naming US States. I am from going out into the hallway, only to escape once again to my room. Both of us weren’t fans of Despacito, emanating from the door across the hall. I remember advertising “Dial Super-Stinky Soap” with my roommate, improvising an ad break for the ad break.

Screaming the lyrics to American Pie, Oxytocin! and Bring on the roasted potatoes! Throwing Kendall paper plates with questions and compliments, recalling dreams of crushed oreos and horns, patterned like rotting bananas, to RAs who fall over laughing.

I’m from discussing wifi hacking tactics during activities, from Where’s Sofi? and Don’t throw the frisbee into the holy pool of water! Calling the talent show program a menu in a moment of acute stress, causing confusion by recreating the scene to random bystanders RAs dancing to Let it Go, being chased by a swarm of students desperately asking for directions to Idaho, getting a panicked “Leave me alone!” in response.

I’m from Hallelujah, All Star, Count on Me, and Piano Man, from Jeopardy! Theme Song wake-up calls and a noisy Minions alarm clock, disrupting the peace of soothing music emanating from a seemingly abandoned laptop.

I’m from inedible chicken sandwiches, thick, chewy eggs devoid of flavor but not unlike tastefully burnt rubber, from toothbrush doorstops and human doorstops, from cooking noodles near midnight in the lounge.

I’m from RAs singing and hugging giant, whirring fans, declaring them new friends. Too bad it’s the last day. I’m from deafening Spotify parties in Alma’s room, from Gatorade in the refrigerator, rice crackers and CDs on the shelves, mattresses dead set on falling off beds.

I’m from clipping fingernails with scissors, painting tiles and paper with shedding paintbrushes, from dousing people in water from plastic bins, throwing dripping sponges, a malfunctioning garden hose.

I’m from waking up to noisy construction, a hazy, orange sun glaring through the window, from RAs spending the entire breakfast period cutting fruit, complaining about their names and laundry times, Pulling up three chairs to fit seven people around a four-person table.

The mystery of the sticky blue spots, not unlike toothpaste, lurking on top of my closet, an enthusiastic friend who changes the location of my bed just because it annoys her, the Periodic Table Song playing in an infinite loop as bedtime music.

Dead chicken bits left over the weekend stinking up the classroom, forgotten hot glue guns burning paper during glider testing by the fountain, exactly 147 napkins and twelve straws stolen from the cafeteria, Laughing about the “Okay” food safety rating and the badly hidden breakfast cake, topped with a small hill of powdered sugar. All part of our silliness.

I’m from Love Tape Day, the Union Green, Campion Hall, and the Bannan building, from nictitating membranes for windows and The wall makes electricity! I’m from Principles of Engineering Design Introduction to Biomedical Sciences, and being the weird, nerdy kids the Nike-sponsored basketball girls look down on.

I am from the Hugalujahs, from a generation lost in space. I am from having an RA too good for this world, the most amazing hall, Because the first one wasn’t right. I am from group hugs as medicine for bee stings, from cinnamon roll hugs in the lounge, including everyone, always. I am from CTY Seattle.

CTY SUN 17.2