A woman can be a window. She can also be a door: that is the truth. My mother does not look
people in the eye: that is the truth. Her head is always cast down in shame: that is the truth. Sorry
precedes her every question: that is the truth. She fades like paper and dust: truth. Her body
grows inwards: truth. She sits in the shadows of the dinner table: truth. She has become the
dinner table: truth. My sister takes after my mother: truth. Her frame has learned to fold onto
itself: truth. Her words have learned to dissipate into cold mist: truth. A door can be a face: truth.
A face can be a door: truth. A woman can be a door: that is
the truth.
Nazanin Soghrati is a 16-year-old high school student from Ontario, Canada.