The American Smile
Americans smile too much,
gratitude heaped like mashed potatoes on Thanksgiving —
thanking and thanking,
timid and thoughtful of the boisterous American
who talks crudely to waiters and expects anyone
and everyone
to do him favors, just because his is boldly, unashamedly,
American.
From a foreign eye,
the expectation of smiling
is uncomfortable,
overwhelming at times.
is it not okay to
not be okay?
The cheery response
“Yes, I’m good!
My day’s been great!”
as the world tumbles down around you,
your family drifting apart
the turmoil burning and bubbling
until you come to resent
the well-intentioned small talk
that fills space like a pungent stink.
Oh, but the perfect is the enemy of the good —
it’s hard to have a day that’s THAT bad here in the great USA:
every problem, just one step from resolution,
no difference too great to overcome.
Oh, but is perfectionism not one of those deeply American qualities —
no one ever works hard enough,
gives back enough,
reaches that lofty potential they’re given as a
GT kid back in primary school.
if everything is opportunity,
then how are we ever truly “okay” with today,
as it basks in its incompleteness,
its nationalist inadequacy.
We refine our language to take in what’s around us,
nixing “ums” and “likes” as we mature
and realize
orange nails just aren’t professional,
that “dope” isn’t a response for corporate America.
The molding is gradual —
pouring ourselves into the mold of Ann Taylor pantsuits
and accepting that personality is best served like creamer —
just a drop here and there,
a decorative bracelet or
a bold pair of earrings.
If I just lost five more pounds…
If I just spent a little more money …
If I had just paid him a little more attention …
maybe everything could be
real and
perfect.
If you smile, you feel better.
If you smile, you might just convince them all that this is
just what you aspired to be and
it’s only them who’s suffering.
If you smile, you’re American,
pushing happiness off as a goal post
and not a choice made every glorious, American day.
Relish the moments of
I’m-disappointed-and-need-to-cry,
I-won’t-just-roll-over,
they will challenge you more than you think.
Freedom,
raw and unsmiling.
Grace Beilstein (she/her) is a student at The Kinkaid School in Houston, Texas. She writes flash fiction, poetry, and prose. She is one of three main editors of her school's award-winning literary magazine "Falcon Wings."