I said. I'm a maid. I'm a dancer, she said. She stuck her elbows out and snapped her fingers. Well, I said. I get paid. Well, she said. I get applause. Well, I said. I get paid and with that money I rent an apartment and buy food. And a television. Well, she said. I get applause and with that affirmation of my amazing talent I feel happy and confident and cool. Well, I said. Enjoy your life as a dancer. Well, she said. Enjoy your life as a maid. Thanks, I will, I said. Good, she said. We walked in grim silence towards something else.
"I said. I'm a maid." "I'm a dancer," she replied, sticking out her elbows and snapping her fingers. We exchanged statements about our lives, contrasting our work and experiences. I explained that I get paid and can afford to rent an apartment, buy food, and own a television, while she shared that her applause from performing makes her feel happy, confident, and cool.
We acknowledged each other's lifestyles with mutual respect,...
