• Title: The Girl In the Kenny Backpack
• Author: Masiel Martin-Marcelo
• Date: 06/02/2025
• Media Type: Poem
• TWs: mentions of physical violence

Everyday I walk in the halls, I see a girl in a Kenny McCormick backpack
I first noticed her when I was a freshmen, her bright orange bag that stood out from the sea of blacks and navy blue
Her smile as bright as her bag
At first I paid no attention to her
But something changed my sophmore year

Somedays when I walk in the halls, I see the girl in the Kenny McCormick backpack
Her bright orange became harder to find, her bag tarnished from the years of wear and tear and pencil lead
Her smile became a rare sight, just like that bright orange bag.
I began paying more attention to her, scanning the halls, searching with a purpose
What was that purpose again? Was there one? Was this just an excuse to focus on something else?
That doesn't matter. What matters is finding her. Why do I want to find her again?...

I never did get to talk to her. I came close to it though.
A simple game with colored cards amongst strangers who were not so strange to her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I find what I've been looking for.
Bright Orange.
Say something. She's right there. The girl you spent months scanning the halls for. 
Why won't you talk to her?
The whole reason you were looking for her was to ask her something, wasn't it? What was that question again?...

A few days went by with no sight of those big eyes surrounded by orange.
Until I'm lined up along a wall. I'm clapping. A sea of white gowns with matching caps pass by. An endless sea of white.
I recognize her face from before.
There she is. I stare, and she continues walking.

I never saw her again. Her time had come.
This facility had nothing more to offer her. 
I never asked my question. But how do you ask a question that doesn't exist?
But it does exist. It's in here somewhere...

A few days later, I'm lost in thought. I'm trying to figure out why this girl peeked my interest. 
I begin to recall details of her bag. 
Orange, big eyes... Wait. One big eye. The other, purple.
The bag hhad blotches of red and purple on it, Frankenstein stitches embedded into its pattern.
Was it always like that? Of course it was. Bags don't change.

How could I miss these details? These pieces of character?
Was I that distracted by my subconscious?
I guess I was.
I remember my question.
After years of seeing her tired eyes, I remember my question.
Was her bag a symbolism of her pain? Did she find comfort in his orange parka? Could she relate?
Did she feel trapped by countless outcomes of a never-ending situation?
What's her home life like?
What, or better yet - who, hurt her so bad to make her feel that he was a representstion of her character? Her life?

I have one last question.
Is he just a character to you?
Does he not represent your home life?
Your feelings of being trapped in the same situation?
Or am I projecting my own issues onto you?

I hope my assumptions are wrong and that he is just a character to you.
I hope that this whole dilemma was my self projection of my issues onto you.
And that bright orange is just your favorite color;
That you cannot relate to his red and purple.
I hope this character does not haunt you the way he haunts me.
That he is not a reminder of what you've endured.

---

What is the Story Behind This Poem?

This poem talks about Kenny McCormick, a popular character from the show “South Park” created by Trey Parker and Matt Stone, available for stream on MAX. (Discretion: THIS IS NOT MY ORIGINAL CHARACTER. PLEASE DON’T SUE ME).

The poem was inspired by the girl I always saw in the Kenny McCormick backpack. At the time of writing the poem I was not friends with her. However, I later met her and got permission to post this poem. She has decided to remain anonymous.

In the show, Kenny dies in many gruesome ways, with nobody remembering these deaths as he later comes back to life the next day. He remembers every way he died and how painful it was. He feels trapped, as he is not able to die and is forced to continue living like this. In the poem, I turned this part of his character into a metaphor for how I felt like I was trapped in my own situation with my abuser.

In the show, Kenny is shown to experience physical abuse from his parents in many episodes. Since I didn’t know the girl at the time, the poem shows me making assumptions about who she is to fill the empty spaces in my mind about her. Some fans of the show see Kenny as a comfort character, or a character that they can relate to. I talk about ways that I relate to the character by projecting these onto the girl. The cover picture for this piece is the most similar bookbag to the one I describe that I can find on Amazon.