Every year, in partnership with We Need Diverse Books, Penguin Random House hosts the Creative Writing Awards, looking for diverse, unique voices of high school seniors nationwide. Five seniors are awarded $50,000 in scholarship money annually in t...
Maya Williams, NYC Entrant Award, $10,000 Scholarship Award, SPOKEN WORD
"Be prepared for the emotional baggage left at the airport with claim tags only women can read."
—Maya Williams
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Creative Writing Mantra:"I am too positive to be doubtful, too optimistic to be fearful, and too determined to be defeated." —Hussein Nishah
My Hobbies: My hobbies include writing fanfiction about my favorite TV shows, working on my YouTube channel, and becoming emotionally invested in fictional characters.
College I Packed Up For: Howard University
To My Catcaller
By Maya Williams
Edward R. Murrow High School
To the man approaching me as I walk down the street. STOP. With every following step you take be prepared for the reparations that proceed you. Be prepared for the persecution of feminine injustice that lightly scrapes your palms while my palms have already bared the scars. Be prepared for the emotional baggage left at the airport with claim tags only women can read. Be prepared for the tears you cry that burn a brand across my cheek. I guess you don't care though. Is it that you don't care. Or do you just not know.
You've now entered my personal space as if the door was cracked open just for you. But the door was locked I had locked it before I left. And you, you somehow got in without a key. I don't understand. I took every necessary precaution that I was supposed to.
To the women who are not aware of how to protect yourselves on a walk. Rule #1 never make eye contact with potential intruders, the eyes are the spare key left underneath the plant pot. Rule #2 a smile is a window left open on the first floor so close that right up and shut it tight. Rule #3 the more angry you appear the less approachable you seem. Right?
Right? Or was my anger just an invitation for your suggestion that I "smile baby" or an invitation for your suggestion that I "relax." Relax. I can relax once the pressure of your assumptions no longer dictate my happiness. I can relax when I can tell my father to return the pepper spray I put on my Christmas wish list. When I find a new deflection because "I'm only thirteen" seems to have become too mainstream. When you make me no longer question if my short shorts are too short as I walk out my front door. I need to relax, I can't relax, I will relax once you stop taking it upon yourself to decide what I asked for based on the physical appearance of my 16-year-old body. Don't I have two more years to consent. Two more years to decide when and where I want to be sexualized and victimized. I guess there's no need to wait. The distinction between yes and no are unnecessary in this situation because . . . it's just a compliment, right?
I never knew a compliment could make my external beauty repulse me internally. So please, to the man approaching me as I walk down the street, STOP. My mind can't handle another invasion.
