Janitor. Janitor is a filthy word. You’d Think I was poor and financially struggled. Maybe that’s the stereotype. I see the curious looks of passerby students. As if the only outfit I own is my janitor shirt. Can I help that it says CUSTODIAN in bold white lettering on the back of my dark blue shirt? It’s as if God wants everyone to know that I clean toilets and wipe tables for a living. Do none of the students know that I have grandchildren? I’m just another stereotypical granny. One who knits sweaters for her well behaved grandchildren. One who bakes brownies for the bingo club. One who framed all my grandchildren’s drawings. It’s not that I’m poor. Just want some extra money. And there’s a reason why.
Two months ago, I was living in the house I grew up in. The one my children grew up in. The house my Husband and I made memories together. But now it’s only me now. I remember how caring I was for my children. After starting their families, they gave me a home. Treated me like a dog. I left my house, because my children never helped my pay rent. And yet I was the bank they would go to for buying movie tickets, school fees, and Christmas presents. But no one ever came for me when I was struggling. Instead the solution was SENIOR CITIZEN HOME. They said I would live the luxury; always having a caretaker by my side, unlimited TV time, and galore. But my luxury was different. I wanted to help grow my grandchildren. I wanted to make their breakfasts and take them out for ice cream. But instead I’m placed in a home full of elderly people who fake their happiness. My family thinks I’ll be a burden to them. That they’ll have to take care of me like an infant. Yet I’ve changed all their diapers. It’s like I’m just another lowly baby they need to care for…
So by now I guess you know that I’m a janitor. I always marveled at teachers when I was little. And the rowdy boys would always throw their juice boxes on the floor and making big messes. At the end of class every day, I always silently observed my poor teacher getting on her knees and scrubbing off dried juice from her floors. Pretty soon I started helping her too. It became my dream to make sure all schools were clean. So I started wiping windows after school and cleaning tables. Then came the excessive bullying. After School I became a wife. And since I was a wife I couldn’t work so I became a stay at home mom. And this way I could learn to sew and cook. The. I had the dream of becoming a chef. However back then Women weren’t given privileges. Then my kids all grew up and so I opened a small bakery within my home. After my husband died I quit this work and became a janitor. It took over 50 years but I finally got to do what I always dreamt of doing. Every day I smile at the kids as I pack up the trash bags. I always peer into these garbage cans and all I see is wasted food. Full hamburgers and unopened milk. There was always a small boy who sat by himself at lunch. He never had anything to eat. One day I saw him peering into the trash can. He was about to reach his hand into the trash when I stopped him. I fumbled around my wallet and gave him a $20. I told him that it should be enough to buy lunch for the rest of the month. The boy looked at me and smiled. His eyes started welling up, and he walked away.
The lunch ladies always look at me pathetically, as if they had the better lesser job. But I appreciate my work. It’s easy to be janitor. I don’t have to stare at a screen full of code all day.
So now my house of memories is gone and I’m stuck in my senior citizens home. I don’t have much time left but I’m trying to make my dream come true.
Hi my name is Manushree. I’m not a senior citizen but I just wanted to write something for janitors .
Their job must be hard but I really really appreciate them.
Thank you janitors !
Two months ago, I was living in the house I grew up in. The one my children grew up in. The house my Husband and I made memories together. But now it’s only me now. I remember how caring I was for my children. After starting their families, they gave me a home. Treated me like a dog. I left my house, because my children never helped my pay rent. And yet I was the bank they would go to for buying movie tickets, school fees, and Christmas presents. But no one ever came for me when I was struggling. Instead the solution was SENIOR CITIZEN HOME. They said I would live the luxury; always having a caretaker by my side, unlimited TV time, and galore. But my luxury was different. I wanted to help grow my grandchildren. I wanted to make their breakfasts and take them out for ice cream. But instead I’m placed in a home full of elderly people who fake their happiness. My family thinks I’ll be a burden to them. That they’ll have to take care of me like an infant. Yet I’ve changed all their diapers. It’s like I’m just another lowly baby they need to care for…
So by now I guess you know that I’m a janitor. I always marveled at teachers when I was little. And the rowdy boys would always throw their juice boxes on the floor and making big messes. At the end of class every day, I always silently observed my poor teacher getting on her knees and scrubbing off dried juice from her floors. Pretty soon I started helping her too. It became my dream to make sure all schools were clean. So I started wiping windows after school and cleaning tables. Then came the excessive bullying. After School I became a wife. And since I was a wife I couldn’t work so I became a stay at home mom. And this way I could learn to sew and cook. The. I had the dream of becoming a chef. However back then Women weren’t given privileges. Then my kids all grew up and so I opened a small bakery within my home. After my husband died I quit this work and became a janitor. It took over 50 years but I finally got to do what I always dreamt of doing. Every day I smile at the kids as I pack up the trash bags. I always peer into these garbage cans and all I see is wasted food. Full hamburgers and unopened milk. There was always a small boy who sat by himself at lunch. He never had anything to eat. One day I saw him peering into the trash can. He was about to reach his hand into the trash when I stopped him. I fumbled around my wallet and gave him a $20. I told him that it should be enough to buy lunch for the rest of the month. The boy looked at me and smiled. His eyes started welling up, and he walked away.
The lunch ladies always look at me pathetically, as if they had the better lesser job. But I appreciate my work. It’s easy to be janitor. I don’t have to stare at a screen full of code all day.
So now my house of memories is gone and I’m stuck in my senior citizens home. I don’t have much time left but I’m trying to make my dream come true.
Hi my name is Manushree. I’m not a senior citizen but I just wanted to write something for janitors .
Their job must be hard but I really really appreciate them.
Thank you janitors !
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