This stage (of life)

December 15, 2023 | Hannah Turner BK ’24

image description: paper with cursive writing

I’m cast into the expanse of eyes as

I act to my best ability yet;

the lines I’d memorized now elude me.

Is “echoing what they said” worth my spot?

Looking at the table, my marks, and notes

I know what to say and say it but I

wonder if the professor thinks I’m wise.

I wonder, too, posting my resume

if an algorithm could divine my

intelligent nature—pages plastered,

set ablaze critiques consuming any

hope that God wants for me a good life.

The fiery site of rejection dries my

tears as a Friend gives a silent embrace.

“Dawn, dusk, day—just another display of 

my failure.” The Friend tells me to have hope.

I laugh instead and commit to construct

my own worth. I practice my performance.

The Friend reminds me of His firm presence

before I even had a resume.

I could try new lines or be more unique.

The glare of their disfavor, relentless

—hadn’t I earned my spot? What hope is there now?

The Friend assures me that it will be hard.

The Friend hears every cry, both them and I,

and the steadfast Friend covers over each

utterance a relation of my pain

saying, “just as you once had hope, I am.”