Perhaps if you were to call it an eggplant, you wouldn’t give it such a frame. But l’aubergine, yes, an aubergine could hold its own, and perhaps even more, be the one not supported by, but wearing the frame.
Hearing my name called now, it comes with a French accent, an English one, even German…so isn’t it funny that I always hear my mother’s voice. The familiar long o, so long it sometimes didn’t even have room for the i at the end, it simply wrapped itself around and ended with the d. Framing my heart, not just with love, but with a responsibility. In that drawn out o, I knew I was to keep becoming.
I try every day. Offering up the words and the art. Would she find it worthy of how she framed me? The light in which she wanted me to be seen. My mother. I hope so. I think so. I keep trying. Because didn’t she bat away the ordinary? Try to clear the path? Shrug off and roll her eyes at purple? Yes, yes, yes…Joyfully, I was led to believe that I was aubergine.
I adored playing on the team. Any team. For all the usual reasons, of course. It was fun to hit a ball, spike a ball, shoot a ball. But there was so much more. Having a place to go at 3:15pm, instead of an empty apartment, this was something! The largest room in the school said, “welcome,” as my sneakers squeaked across a polished floor. Passion and practice swirled from gym to bus, as we sang our way to each competition. Wins and losses forgotten. Conversations turning to bedrooms postered with dreams, and unrequited loves. I wrote poems for seasons beginning. Seasons ending. Heart forever on my uniformed sleeve. And I was home.
If this sounds less like sport and more like therapy…maybe it was. I learned pretty early on, that you don’t have to blend to belong. I suppose we all had our reasons for coming together. The thing I appreciated the most was that we didn’t question it. Never said, “I wonder why she’s here???” I wish we still did that — concentrated more on the welcome than the motivation. What if we said, “Well, it’s 3:15pm, why wouldn’t you be here?!”
We all have a need to gather, but that doesn’t mean we all have to be purple. We can play together. Work together. Mix our passions and practice. We can unlock the gates and fling open the doors, smile and say, “Here comes Aubergine!”
I love to get dressed up. I don’t mean ball gown dressed up, (though I’m not against that for sure), but dressed nicely, put together, perhaps a scarf that matches my purse. To ensemble – yes, I made that a verb – feels wonderful. I have named my gloves — Ava Gardner, my sunglasses — Anna Wintour. Sure, some will call it vain, and it probably is, a little, but for me, it feels more like a confidence boost. Like there’s a superpower hidden right there inside of my gloves. And I suppose, if you believe it, it’s true.
I couldn’t have been more shy when I was a little girl. Not in Kindergarten, nor 1st grade, not 2nd, 3rd or 4th. As I got older I avoided speech classes. I didn’t want anything to do with it. So it surprises even me, that I can now give speeches, presentations, in front of any group. And even more surprising – I love it! I adore it. Yesterday I spoke to a group of Special Education teachers. I put on my green dress, with, of course, my matching green boots, my French scarf, and performed with confidence and strength.
Now, I know that the confidence comes from work. The writing. The painting. The living. The practicing. I put my heart and soul and hardworking hands into every performance. The work, the substance of my efforts, is an eggplant, for sure. Strong, sturdy, deep purple. And I know this. I live by this. But because I have put in the time, to grow, to make my “eggplant” strong, on those days that I get to perform, I put on the clothes, that take me from eggplant to aubergine. Because we get to decide, don’t we! We get to decide who and what we want to be! No one can tell us, or force us, not even our former selves! So I do the work. Smiling. Knowing, in a world of purple, I can be aubergine!
