My Advance Comp students have been writing counter-narrative poems this week — poems about how they are so much more than what people judge them and stereotype them as. I wrote one right along with them — one that if you know me, you know I feel quite passionate about…

“I Am not JUST a Woman”

I do have all the girl parts and love to play the girl parts – fix my hair, wear my makeup, get dressed up to go out on the weekends,

But I am not JUST a woman.

I do know my way around a kitchen, and I love to don my apron and bake up batch after batch of cookies,

But I am not JUST a woman.

I do love my children, and being pregnant were some of the most fulfilling and awe-inspiring times of my life,

and I do love to kick off my shoes go barefoot through the clover and feel the chill of the hardwood floors on the soles of my feet,

but I am not JUST a woman.

I do get emotional sometimes. I cry at Publix commercials and when the guy gets the girl at the end of the film, and at some point (or twelve) in the classroom when I’m proud;

I get hormonal and hangry and chocolate and ice cream are my favorite go-to craving cures,

But I am not JUST a woman.

I might struggle to bench (just-barely) the bar; I might lose at arm-wrestling matches 10 out of 10 times, but don’t mistake me for weak and don’t mistake me for soft and don’t call me pushover and lady-part names.

I am not JUST a woman (and those parts are fiercer and stronger and more pain-tolerant and flexible than any part the opposing team has EVER possessed.)

I may be quiet, not speak very loud. I may be shy and not look you too long in the eyes. I may take care with just how I interact,

But I say what I mean and I mean what I say; I have opinions and a voice and I give both the light of day. I fight for my rights and for others each day, especially the ones whose lives get foul play.

I am not JUST a woman.

I’m a baker and scholar, a nurturer and warrior, outspoken and introverted, emotional and rational, I’m female and fierce.

I drive a minivan. And my kids crazy. The ones at home and the ones in my classroom.

I am quirky and classic, passionate and calm, powerful and tender, tough and tired.

I’m tired of seeing people labeled and dismissed for their skin and their clothes and their gender and their build and their address and their hair, their sexuality, their politics, their country of origin, their faith.

II am a human and a humanitarian.

I am so much more than the sum of my parts, and I am so much more than JUST a woman.