Decide

Remember when you first discovered me? You were tired and out of sorts after a long journey so it must have been quite a surprise to see you had acquired a tiny, foreign visitor – clear as day in your living room! Looking down at your baggage with a furrowed brow, you thought back, retracing your steps, wondering how and when I crawled in… Was the window open? How long has it been in there? Wouldn’t I have noticed it sooner? 

You had never seen anything like me before and you were unsure that your identification of me was correct. You did plenty of research, asking your friends too, hoping someone had an idea of what I actually was, and could offer some advice on what to do.

“Whatever you do, don’t squash it! It’ll cause such a stink!” cautioned one friend; “Best thing to do is just suck it up with the hoover!” recommended another. 

You actually weren’t against the idea of letting me be, assuming I would find my own way out eventually… surely I wouldn’t stick around too long? But what if I had no intention of leaving? What impact would I have on your environment if left undisturbed? Would that be a mistake? 

A lot of questions fired around your mind but you had to decide. 

I’ll admit I was hoping to stay hidden for a little while longer – I had grown quite cosy and content in your little home but I was intruding, and it would probably be best not to let me linger, right? 

You briefly debated a name for me at one point – it could’ve been funny and entertaining to give me a personality, but ultimately knowing that you would need to somehow expel me from your home, you reconsidered – best to avoid any attachment. 

I was all you thought about though – the ironically small elephant in the room.

You’d barely unpacked, and it was already time to go back to work, go to appointments, catch up with friends – How were the holidays?! Do anything nice at the weekend? – all the while, few people knew that I was trapped under a mug in your living room, not going anywhere, just waiting to be evicted.

You chose what made the most sense. It wasn’t violent or cruel; just quick. No doubt you’ll wonder about that decision for years to come, but you’ll find solace in accepting that I was just a seed bug – an accidental invader, and I wasn’t meant to be here.

Home

They were tearing down all the homes in my neck of the woods and I was forced to migrate. There was a lot of flapping and complaint about it but in the end it finally twigged that I would have to flee, so here I am, perching in this new environment. 

There aren’t many others like me around, but I’m used to this feeling of solitude. I’d visited a few sites fleetingly and eventually I found a humble place to settle down. It may seem naught but an excavated hole to you, but to me it is home – a quiet space nestled on the outskirts of the city –  it’s perfect. 

Since being here, I’ve chipped in the same as others and earned my stripes, but I wouldn’t like to tap at doors and stick my beak in too much, so I keep myself to myself. I have a prominent appearance but I’m rarely seen and I mostly go unspotted. Occasionally people will see me and be mindful of me for a short speck of time, but as soon as I’m out of sight, I’m barely a flicker of a thought at the back of their minds. 

For all that I like this secluded life, it’s difficult to be valued at the forefront of society when no one can see my crown. My needs are often forgotten and this riddling thought bores into me each day.

Just because I’m usually quiet that doesn’t mean I won’t create noise. It’s important to look at things from all angles before drilling into something, so I am always contemplating. 

You believe we are all the same, but some of us are defined as greater, and others lesser. There’s an impending pecking order that seems to hover high above us, a jabbing reminder that we are mere workers and everything we contribute to your world can be snatched away in a pinch.  This has always been drummed into us, but now there’s a call for loud, rapid action but it’s compliant and somewhat easier to show the white feather. 

I wouldn’t want to risk everything now. It took me so long to find my home here and spread my wings in your society… but perhaps now is the right time. I expect one day I will be threatened, (knock on wood) and forced to move on once again for I am a woodpecker and your hollow, decaying tree is my home.

Persist

It’s cruel how you taunt us with so much freedom, laughing as we constantly soar towards it, only to find our paths blocked by a cold, glass barrier. There may be a small crack in this window for us to crawl through, but what we need is for all doors to be wide open. 

It only takes one of us, a born leader, to plant the first seed and  we all follow. We see your fear as we emerge from the woodwork in waves and droves with often misunderstood intentions, but it’s been happening since the start of time – it shouldn’t be such a sting to see us claiming the sweet nectar you once believed was only yours.

You underestimate our potential and see us as nothing but parasites chewing on the scraps you left behind. We scout out the half-eaten apple you carelessly toss away, and in this we find swarms of opportunity. It’s no picnic but all we really want is our fair share and to be understood as a necessary part in society. For this reason we persist.

Just the sight or sound of us screams a warning. One individual is considered a mere nuisance, but a whole colony of us with a united mission paralyses your society. Our piercing jabs make you flinch in agony as you question your own venomous actions towards us. We have always been here and we know our true purpose; your swats and swipes are futile against us and will only result in your own downfall.

People react differently towards what they perceive as a threat: some choose violence; some turn a blind eye; some educate themselves and begin to understand. Many of us have been beaten and killed at your hands but this is no crime, merely a day-to-day occurrence. It happens. Yet we are unable to shrug it off. We come together and rebuild through these cycles of destruction. You may wait for us to grow tired and disappear but there will always be a new leader, a new Queen, to carry on the cause and secure our future, for we wasps are resilient and strong and know that we belong. 

Proud

Have you always known what you would be when you grew up? I never really had an option. My work means everything to me – it offers focus, provides my daily meals and ensures I have somewhere to rest my head.

As a lost youngster, I was unwillingly swept into this city hubbub but now when I prey upon this bustling, urban jungle, I see my home and I just can’t wait to sink my teeth into each new day. I spy thousands of people below: swarming over the pavements, their cars scuttling down the roads, their bicycles whizzing down the streets, always rushing, rushing, rushing! How I do enjoy the buzz! I’m completely caught up in my frantic lifestyle and the unquenchable thirst for work gives me an overwhelming sense of pride. 

Of course, there are times I consider surrendering and escaping for a much-needed rest, but I’m unashamedly sucked into the city frenzy. The endless opportunities and challenges drive me forward and push me to constantly improve. Do you know, I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Yes, yes, the grass could be greener somewhere else, but what if it’s not? Don’t you think it’s better to stay put, bounded by the silky comfort of what I already know? It’s true, there are mounting responsibilities biting down on my shoulders and often I struggle to deal with the pressure. With everything flying around me lately, it’s difficult to find time for my tasks, let alone myself. Alright, I’ll admit I do get somewhat tangled up in those suffocating thoughts but I always try to put a positive spin on things.

Sometimes I wonder why I bother. I rarely get any acknowledgment for my carefully considered efforts. I know I don’t do my job for attention but a little taste of recognition would be nice. I’m sure you can imagine the depression and despair: toiling over my work, dutifully and precisely tailoring each aspect to meet my perfect expectations, then an audacious stranger decides my work is insignificant and they simply wisp it away with a curt flick of their hand. That’s what bugs me most – the blatant lack of respect.

But, even if nobody else understands, if nobody else will appreciate my work, I still don’t give up. The truth is: I believe in myself; I am important; I am strong; I am proud. Yet, I expect, to you I am nothing but a common spider and my work is just another dusty cobweb in your way.