The Caged Canary (An Excerpt)
“My eyes begin to flutter, blinding rays of light shape their ways around my lashes and sting my unwilling eyes. Slowly, they open. Like everyone else’s. I begin to wiggle my body. Becoming increasingly aware of each undignified acre. I toss and turn, like everyone else does, with one suggestive idea becoming more and more apparent. Get the fuck up. I trace my sweaty and swollen fingers through the matted hair pasted tightly to the shape of my cranium. Just like many of you. Before releasing I give the strands of cells a firm tug. A reminder. A painful reminder it needs to be cut. That I hate it, almost as much as I hate myse- MEEP MEEP MEEP. I reach over to silence the “last call” alarm. I swing my legs over and I feel all 135 pounds of my weight hit the ground as reality strikes. I don’t want to be awake. Just like the masses. I make my way to the closet. I stare. I’m indecisive, like many of us. I put on whatever seems to fit, accept it doesn’t, it never does. I wonder if my sister ever feels this way about herself. My father. My friends. The whole world. Eh, I’m thinking far too hard. So I make my way to the sink and begin to brush my teeth, like every hygienic person does. Accept when I look in the mirror, it’s not a reflection. No, it can’t be. This can’t be what I look like. I don’t want it to be. I give myself a pinch on the arm. A reminder. A painful reminder that I hate my body. Just as much as I hate myse- ERIN!! My father’s calling me downstairs, clearly I’m taking too long to get ready, like most of the people I know, but unlike most he’s not calling my name. Not mine. It can’t be mine, I hate that name. So I skip breakfast that day and head out the door. As a reminder. A painful reminder that I need to change my name. I need to change myself. Because I hate it. And unlike everyone else when I walk through that door I’m terrified. But not because I’ll get stung by a bee or hit by a car but because of myself.
I don’t know how to be myself here. In front of my sister, my father, my friends, the whole world. And everyday I wake up, and get dressed and walk out the door. It's another day living as someone else….
“What if I called you Birdie, cuz dad always called you erie-canary, it would be like this fully evolved version of you. But only if you think it fits.” And from that moment I never looked back. It was perfect….
…The next morning I woke up. I felt the warm light curl around my lashes and flutter my eyes to open eagerly. I begin to wiggle my body, becoming aware of each dignified acre. I toss and turn, like everyone else does, with one suggestive idea becoming more and more apparent. Let’s get up. I trace my fingers through my long hair, looking forward to the day I will style it short. I swing my legs over to jump off my bed feeling my toes hit the bouncy carpet when realization strikes. I feel lighter than before. I make my way to the closet, I stare, I’m indecisive. Yet my sister comes over and reaches in to pick out a dark green button up shirt. “Wear this”, she says. I make my way to the sink to brush my teeth, taking a glance in the mirror. The shirt; it fits. I stare at myself for a moment in the mirror. Recognizing that for the first time I was okay with the person staring back, I recognized them, it was me, it was Birdie. Once I realize I should probably head downstairs I hear “ERIN”. My father’s calling me down. It’s not my name. I know that. And it served as a reminder, a painful reminder that it was time to take the next leap; telling my parents. I knew my father; my parents didn’t know what they/them meant. We’d never talked about that stuff before and I didn’t know how to begin to explain this part of me that I’d been choosing to hide for so long. I knew it was going to be hard. And that was okay. It is okay. There will continue to be reminders, and I know there will be for the rest of my life. Painful reminders that it’s time to take the next leap, the next step.”
The Caged Canary (An Excerpt) by Birdie Hendrickson
Invitation: “ …it’s time to take the next leap...”
Birdie Hendrickson; 20 years old, is a non-binary artist currently pursuing a Masters in Theater Studies at Montclair State University. Through primarily acting, writing, and educating Birdie is eager to uplift voices and stories that are too regularly dismissed. With this goal in mind, Birdie was offered to write a 6 minute essay for the first annual Montclair Story Slam, this time sharing their own story coming to terms with their identity as a gender-queer individual.
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Thank you Birdie for going public with your story. Going public takes courage …. And you exemplify it here. Your truth helps each of us to examine our lives and look for our own courageous next step. In deep gratitude for you.
I am so grateful that Birdie Henderson shared their piece with us which was part of their college experience not long ago. Sam Henderson is Birdie's father. Christine Capaci is Birdie's parent as Sam's spouse. The three of them are often part of online The Community Table on every other Monday evening at 8:00pm.