Do you want some dinner? No.
Would you like ice cream? No.
Do you want to play? No.
Do you want to sing? No.
Anything at all? No. I know all.
No to every question. No to every idea. Her parents grew tired of her ‘no’ and sent her to a faraway land to a classroom with a group of eager students and a teacher who wanted to change the world.
What would you like to study? No.
What would you like to do? No.
How about a partner? No.
What’s your sentence two? No.
The ‘no’ seeped out from her pores. The ‘no’ shot out of her eyes. Everyone in class became infected with ‘no’ cries. They became unmoved, you see. They became numb. Without saying it aloud, they said, “What’s the point? It’s all so very dumb.”
They pulled out their phones and tapped at the keys. They watched their videos and texted and teased. Dejected and depleted, depressed and distraught, the teacher couldn’t remember why she even taught. She went home under the covers and wished the ‘no’ would go away. But hiding under covers was a no in its own way.
So she marched in front of the students with all their knowing no’s.
She felt a little nauseous. Felt a little faint. But then, from deep within she mustered up the strength.
Half the class was shocked and half burst out in laughter. The No Girl smirked and crossed her arms right after.
The teacher said, “No Girl, you are the voice of everyone’s no that existed long before, you see. You are in him and her and her and him and deep inside of me. But today is the day that your no must leave. Yes to life and yes to what is and yes to the voice that says I can, we can, we live. No more No Girl. Your day is done. Get out No Girl. The show you no longer run.”
The No Girl could hide no more. She stood and walked out the door. There were those who followed her that day, picking up their phones and scurrying away. They clung to No Girl to validate their no. But those that chose to stay in class began to feel lighter at last. And breath was indeed restored in one resounding yes.