Being Called Chicken

 
"Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above,
Don’t fence me in.
Let me ride through the wide open country that I love,
Don’t fence me in.
Let me be by myself in the evenin’ breeze,
And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees,
Send me off forever but I ask you please,
Don’t fence me in"
- Don't Fence Me In

I have an independent streak. I love being around people and doing things with others, but there's also a part of me that deeply enjoys doing things on my own. Some people have told me that they don't like going to the movies by themselves, feeling, it seems, as though there's a kind of stigma about it. I go the movies by myself all the time and I don't mind at all. It's preferable to have someone else there to talk about the experience afterwards, yet I decided a long time ago that if there was something I wanted/should do, I wouldn't let the possibility of doing it alone stop me. This, however, was not until after I had been called chicken.

I was working at a pediatric dental office. I was eighteen years old. I had only been working there for a few months and was still learning the ropes, navigating a job in which I the youngest person on staff, as well as being young enough to be the daughter of some of the parents I had to speak to about their children's dental visit. It was intimidating: clutching their child's chart and telling them good or bad news. I was young and new to the job. Some of the staff took me under their wing, though most thought it amusing to test my innocence as they watched soap operas at lunch and talked about sex. It was deep water at the start, yet it was a good job and there were good people involved who over time became friends.

A few weeks after I was hired, another assistant came on staff. We bonded because although she had more experience than I, she didn't know all the rules and layout of the office, so we helped each other out. One day the dentist decided to do a campaign where a couple of us would go into schools and daycares and do a presentation to the kids on the importance of good oral hygiene. He bought these puppets with teeth, which sounds creepy but were actually pretty cute. A couple of us would go and show the kids how to brush and floss and which foods were bad and good for your teeth, then hand out toothbrushes and such with the dentist office name on them. I was selected as one of the people to go do a presentation. I asked a lot of questions about what I should say and do. I guess I came off as nervous. I was asked if I didn't want to do it, but I love kids so I said I was fine to do it, I just wanted to get it right. I and some other staff were up front talking about the presentations. I went to the back, and a few minutes later, N, the assistant who was newer than me, followed me to the back.
"You don't need to be nervous about tomorrow," N told me.
"I'm not, really, it will be fun, I just want to do it right," I said.
"Good. Because ... well, when you left, M said, 'Sonnet is such a chicken'."
My jaw dropped. N hurried on:
"But I said, 'Sonnet is NOT a chicken! Don't be saying things like that'." N was very addament. It was clear that M's accusation had upset her. I thanked her for standing up for me.

The presentations the following day went fine. I don't remember what all I said to the kids who watched me as I used a puppet to help show them how to brush their teeth, but I've always remembered being called a chicken behind my back. The experience has given me moments of reflection. I think it is part of the reason why I don't want to let any nervousness of uncertainty stop me from doing things, or, as was simply the case with the puppets, have it come across that I didn't want to do something. That I was scared. Chicken. There's a place for fear and shrinking back, but it's a place I like to push back as much as possible. I don't want it to get in my way. I don't want it to get in the way of things both that others might ask me to do or that I want to do myself. I've driven an eight-hour round trip in a day to go to a wedding. I signed up to go skydiving, alone, before two friends decided they wanted to do it too. I've gone to plays and concerts and ballets alone when no one I knew was interested in going. I'm preparing to move to a different country to live and work there for at least two years, meeting up with people I've come to know and love yet leaving my family and home and everything familiar. Somehow though, it's not that big a deal. I'm not afraid. If it's where I'm supposed to go then I'll go. I'll ask a lot of questions and try to be prepared. But come on, chicken? Call me that if you really think it's true, but know that really, I try not to be.