The word has two meanings
and I lived inside both of them.
Remote: at a distance.
Remote: unlikely.
I worked from a distance.
The possibility of permanence was unlikely.
This is not a metaphor.
This is a description.
They called me a remote instructor
and I was remote from the building,
remote from the conversations that decided things,
remote from the office where the plan was made,
remote from the table where my name came up
and was then not brought up again,
remote from the moment the decision landed
that I learned about later
from a job posting.
I taught people connection
from a place of careful distance.
I taught people to belong
from outside the belonging.
I am not asking you to pity that.
It was also its own kind of freedom,
to be far enough from the centre
to see the shape of it clearly,
to understand the architecture of a place
from standing outside the walls.
I saw it clearly.
I see it clearly.
I was remote.
I was never gone.
Desde lejos. Pero siempre presente.
From a distance. But always present.
