

The primrose represents women and youth
Primrose, 33 years old, was born into a family of four. She had three older brothers. She was the one and only daughter of a hard-working mother and an alcoholic father. Primrose didn’t really speak that much at home. She seemed to enjoy her own company, playing music in her small bedroom. She lived in her own little world, a safe world, yet a lonely world. Her brothers didn’t really have much time for her. They were too busy being boys. Primrose was merely their special little sister that seemed happy enough in her own little world. Life was tough in Primrose’s house. Her mother, a hard- working woman, the rock of the family, was a timid lady who was badly bruised through her marital life. She was a traditional woman who had values and morals. When she married her husband, who she loved deeply many years ago, she married him for life. She would often defend him saying that the alcoholism is an illness and not his fault. Primrose didn’t see it that way. In her room, while listening to her music and dancing around the compact space, she would hear the savage abuse her mother suffered at the hands of her father. She would often take off her headphones and sit on the bedroom floor against the door and listen. She listened most nights with knots in her belly, and tears rolling down her pale, plump cheeks. She loved her mother, but she had so much anger for her. Why doesn’t she stand up for herself against this man? She could never seem to get the answer to this question. Primrose, on so many occasions wanted to open her bedroom door, run downstairs and tell this bully and cowardly man to pack his bags and clear off for good. But Primrose, like her mother was also scared. So, she remained alone, in her bedroom, listening to music, listening to the abuse. This was routine for Primrose’s family. This became normality. This is what life was like for her.
Primrose experienced loneliness in most aspects of her life. She didn’t do well at school and had a few part-time and passive friends. She accepted that this was just the way her life was. Primrose left school at sixteen with no qualifications. She did try her best and quietly worked at bettering herself but unfortunately for Primrose school was a highly unsuccessful experience. Aged 16, no qualifications, a few friends, loneliness. But Primrose continued to spend hours in her room. She listened to music and she danced. She listened to the abuse and she cried.
At age 20, life changed for Primrose. She had a part-time volunteering job in a local grocery shop, down the street from where she lived. A friend of her mother’s arranged it for Primrose. She knew that Primrose needed to get out of that toxic environment, if only for a few hours a week. Primrose’s duties included stocking shelves, bag packing, and labelling. She loved it. She loved socialising with her work mates and meeting customers. Primrose worked hard. Everyone in the shop was fond of Primrose. They had a soft spot for her. They saw her pain, her numbness, her acceptance, and her resilience. At home, Primrose’s routine didn’t change. She spent most of her time locked away in her bedroom, dancing. It was her escape into a world of excitement, love, acceptance, and equality. As she danced, she imagined herself in the arms of a man she loved. And he loved her back, unconditionally. They danced together, they made plans together, had adventures together and were committed to loving each other. Primrose was so happy in her imaginary world. This was her world, where dreams come true. As time went on, nothing changed in Primrose’s house. However, when the abusive attacks by her father routinely started on her mother, Primrose would not sit and cry any more. She kept her headphones on and danced. She danced vigorously and passionately to maximum volume tracks, sometimes falling in a heap after tripping on one of her many stuffed animals lying about her box-sized bedroom. She grew to love her imaginary world and wanted to stay there.
One quiet Tuesday afternoon in the local grocery store, Primrose was stacking tins of beans and peas on the shelves. She liked to do this, particularly on Tuesday afternoons as this was a quiet time. Taking advantage of a lack of customers in the shopping aisle, Primrose would bust some dance moves in time to the tracks played throughout the store. On this particular Tuesday afternoon, Primrose’s favourite track came on, One Direction’s ‘Best Song Ever’. Empty aisle, no customers, tins almost stacked. She went for it. She danced and didn’t care who watched. She was enthralled in the music, the lyrics, the rhythm. On this particular afternoon, a quiet petite lady went into the store to grab a few groceries. Passing the aisle where Primrose worked, she saw a dancing figure in the corner of her eye. Not wanting to disrupt her, she stood still. She attentively watched Primrose as she swayed in time to the beat. The lady was impressed. She felt joy in her heart. She was a dancer too. The song came to an end and Primrose saw the lady and smiled. The lady approached Primrose and they got talking about dancing. The lady could tell that Primrose was passionate about it and dreamed constantly that One day she would be a dancer on a stage pleasing a huge audience. On this afternoon, Primrose’s life changed. This lady got Primrose enrolled in her dance school. Primrose never missed a class. Today Primrose continues to dance and perform. She is happiest when dancing and the world gets to see this.
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Wouldn't it be a good idea to create a course?