burns a hole through everyone that feels it.
It burns a hole through everyone that feels it.
“Short hair. Wears glasses. Fair. She’s a senior student, too.”
The latest description of myself, as given to a friend by some clueless person who saw me earlier, but did not know of my name. For starters, I am not that fair either, so you can easily dismiss thoughts of seeing me in those local skincare product commercials that have got a number of people in a skin colour debate. But never mind that. There was that one word that made my stomach churned.
Sen”ior, n. (source: dictionary.com)
1. A person who is older than another; one more advanced in life.
2. One older in office, or whose entrance upon office was anterior to that of another; one prior in grade.
3. An aged person; an older.—Dryden.
4. One in the fourth or final year of his collegiate course at an American college.
Okay, so it made me felt old again. Probably, very old. I stepped into university about two years ago, am currently only halfway through obtaining my degree, and I already have to be referred to as a senior? I believe the word has been seriously misused. I am not a final year student. I could be older by only a year or two, but I may not necessarily be wiser. Add the word ‘citizen’ behind it, and I may qualify for those benefits, various discounts, and possibly a wheelchair. At this point, I am, of course, thinking too far ahead.
It gives you a whole new sense of responsbility and power, it seems. Having people look up to you for advice and guidance. Others paying extra attention to have you relate your experiences while they actually listen to you thoughtfully. Does it really happen this way?
Still, there is something to that word that makes me quiver. It sounds utterly funny to my ears, especially when used to describe me.
Senior??! There goes that little chill down my spine again.
I am consoling myself that it could not be that bad. After all, I do have an imaginary Nephew running around here somewhere.
On air now: Blue and Yellow, The Used