Job or uni?
Tara Thompson

The screaming match was loud and clear.

Everyone on our street knew,

"I am not going to Uni, mum and dad,

To myself, I am staying true."

"You've got to work twice as hard

To be considered half as good."

I heard this from the moment I was born,

It was the tenet of my childhood.

So if being black and having less,

Meant I had to do way more,

I was determined to skip a step

And let studying be no more.

I watched the spittle form in the corner

Of my dad's twitching mouth,

My mother's lowered head told me

This was fast going south.

Straightening my spine, I stood firm,

As my mind was quite resolute.

I was going to earn my way

In a paying institute.

I became a credit controller,

Crunching numbers all day long.

It was fun for a week,

And then I accepted I'd been wrong.

Day in, day out, it never changed,

It was as unvaried as a flat line.

I missed my life as a student.

How could I have been so asinine?

I was a teen, I thought I knew best

And ended up in a job quite gloomy.

Needless to say, it played out well,

I ended up going to uni.