Napowrimo 10

 

Admiring “What I learned as a Girl Scout Was How to PlayAmerica” by Lily Greenburg

 

This is a fine poem. It’s about what it means to be an American and how we’re conditioned to think and act certain ways. It’s mostly about capitalism and a critique of our culture—

 

It’s about looking like you’re doing a good thing vs. actually doing a good thing

 

Preparing girls for the “real rules of Suburbia” 😊

 

 

In the beginning of the poem, we see a common image: a troop of little girls “in the sunniest patch of curb” at the local Kroger wearing “little brown vests” singing adorably to sell their cookies.

 

“Oh America,” the speaker proclaims, “give us your money.”

 

As the poem unfolds, it goes on to describe the different badges the girls earn—some of them real, some of them not, and what the girls have to do in order to earn them, in order to become women.

 

Near the end of the poem, it gets a little dark—the speaker is now twelve and her parents tell her “not to talk to my sister anymore” and another girl stands “on a cafeteria table / shouting Lily’s sister is on drugs!:

 

And she earns her “Family Story badge” from the experience.

 

A little strange, but I’m following along still.

 

The last stanza of the poem repurposes the Girl Scout Pledge, and suddenly it sounds a little dark:

 

“On my honor, I have tried

To serve God and my country

To help people at all times,

And to live by the Girl Scout Law”

 

Here, the girl scout law seems to be to serve yourself and learn how to make money while looking cute. Basically, teaching girls to participate in capitalism under the guise of helping others, serving God, and serving America.

 

So some ideas for prompts:

·       How did I learn to be a good American/good woman?

o   Oh, I think I want to write about going to the scholastic book fair. That for me was a lesson in class privilege that I didn’t internalize until later.

 

What I Learned at the Scholastic Book Fair

It was my favorite day of the school year—

When the library became a bookstore

Filled with trinkets, toys, and yes books.

I came with my pocket full of dollar bills,

 

Enough to let me take home as many books

As my skinny arms could hold, even hardcovers.

Blissfully, I’d fill a bag, not caring much

About the price tags, knowing my parents,

 

would fit the bill for books no matter the cost.

Oh the power of a pocket full of change

to a girl like me, a bookworm, who could purchase

worlds in which to lose herself: a giant peach,

 

a wardrobe, Middle Earth. I jingled change

like privilege in my pocket.