Idle Culture

Writings of a cultural dysfunct

Location: Seattle, United States

Thursday, December 30, 2004

Rashida Bee

"We are not expendable. We are not flowers offered at the altar of profit and power. We are dancing flames committed to conquering darkness and to challenging those who threaten the planet and the magic and mystery of life."

Rashida Bee
Bhopal Survivor

Goldman Prize Recipient

Another Leap

I would always urge them to push me higher as my legs stretched out on my forward ascent. I held on to the chain that connected the seat to the frame as tight as possible as I tricked gravity into letting me glide into the sky for just a few seconds, long enough to kiss the air that was forever above my head. The dares would be issued from below, the children vying for the next push into the atmosphere called on me to leap from the seat and test out my wings. Holding my breath as I watched the trees in the distance disappear from my vision, I would let go of the chains and throw myself into the air at the moment of my highest ascent, praying that the ground below would catch me yet again. Happiness would fill me as I realized that the sky had let me go without hurting me. Rubbing my hands to make the lines from the chain disappear and no longer hurt, I would run back to the end of the waiting line and become one of the children shouting from below, excited to leap again.

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