I did not know that was the word for it.
Not at first.
At first it felt like an opportunity.
A gap in the schedule,
a course that needed teaching,
a door that opened just wide enough
for someone to walk through,
and I walked through it
because I was qualified
and I was there
and the course needed teaching.
I taught it.
I taught the next one too.
And the one after that.
I built the expertise they needed.
I became the person
the department could not run without.
That is when I understood the word.
Placeholder.
The one who holds the place
while they look for the person
they actually intend to put there.
The search would open.
National. Competitive.
We want the best candidate.
And I would read the posting
and see my own job
described in language
that did not include me.
I applied anyway, some years.
I want you to know that.
I put my name in the pile
with the careful hope of a person
who has spent years earning the right
to stop being provisional.
And I was thanked for applying.
That is its own sentence.
It does not need more words around it.
Thanked for applying.
I held the place for a long time.
The place was well held.
I held it with both hands
and everything I knew
and everyone I cared about
inside it.
No one takes that back.
The holding was real
even when the place was never mine.
Sostuve el lugar. El lugar también me sostuvo.
I held the place. The place held me too.
