A little thing can sometimes become a big thing. I was just remembering something that happened to me when I was a kid. I bet no one else even remembered this but years later it still affects me.
When I was six years old and in grade one, a little incident occurred that shaped a lot of things for me. Back then, in our grade, boys and girls would change for gym in the same classroom. It wasn’t really a big deal. After gym kids would often rush back to the classroom to change quickly. As you know running in the hallways is always a bit taboo. One day, Kelly F. (Hi Kelly!) and I were the first out of gym. We did that funny run/walk that kids do by holding their arms ramrod straight at their sides and trying to walk without bending at the knee. Who did we think we were kidding? So here we were goose-stepping it back to class ahead of the others.
We immediately started to change when our teacher, Miss Hill, came into the class and ordered us to walk back to the gym slowly and then walk back to class. Kelly had changed her shirt and had her shorts still on. I was in a tee shirt and my underpants. I said something like “just let me get my pants on” and she stopped me short and said, “No. Go as you are.” I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to die. The class went silent. We walked out into the hall and I tried to pull my tee-shirt as long as it would possibly go. I can’t believe that a teacher would allow a six year old in her little waist high undies walk through the halls of the school. We were totally silent and maybe only passed five other kids in the hall. Kelly gave me a look like, “holy crap I can’t believe she is making you do this.”
When we returned to the class it got worse. I hurried into my pants while the other kids snickered and I heard whispers of underpants, underpants. I sat down at my desk and started to cry. It was one of those silent cries where you can’t help have the tears slide down your face. I glanced at Miss. Hill (yes her real name) and she just gave me the snake eye. Almost as if to say, “cry all you want kid but you deserve it”.
I felt utterly powerless. An adult was allowed to shame me, humiliate me and it almost felt like she was happy she had done it. Now I always told my parents everything but this is one thing I didn’t tell them. I was confused and embarrassed. Years later when I was in High School I told them and they totally freaked out.
I know this doesn’t sound like a big deal whatsoever but it caused me to have issues down the road of being comfortable with myself and somehow being undressed became attached to the feeling of shame. I’m sure Miss. Hill had some good qualities but I will never forget that incident. I also have learned that sometimes even the smallest event can have long term lasting repercussions on a child. Most importantly, confusion and shame can prevent a very open child from telling you something. That’s pretty scary.
Home front Update:
Chloe’s big girl bed is still causing some early rising. Yesterday she was up at 4:30 am. We got a space heater for her room as it seems to be the coldest in the house. It must have helped because she was up at 5:30 today. It’s amazing when 5:30 is practically a sleep in.
Yesterday we went to IKEA. We don’t know why but Henry likes to call it Mykea. Whatever, weird kid. He LOVES the play place there so that entertained him for about an hour. We found a couple of things that we liked in the marketplace but really I just don’t like the furniture anymore. I turned to Thomas with a look of horror and said, “Is it possible that we are too old for IKEA?” Mon dieu.
4 comments:
You are beautiful. This little thought may help to give you the self assured confidence back that that wacky crack up had no right taking from you. Miss Hill will meet her kharma in an elderly home with a very rough nurse and daily sponge baths. There, now shoulders back, chin high go into your mind to relive events hug that six year old, whisper in her ear, "Parade right by Miss Hill of Beans and say you can't get the better of me."
Get it back any way you can cause Miss Wack-A-Do ain't coming back to give it to you.
Teachers sometimes have really no idea how powerful (good or bad) than can be to a young person. I had a grade 8 teacher (Mr Roots) tell me that some kids just aren't meant to go on to post secondary education and school isn't for everyone. In my heart I know he said this in what he thought was kindness because I was having a hard time at school. His voice stayed in my head when other things starting happening and I had choices to make. Because of him (not him alone but a big factor) I decided to leave school in before I finished high school. I am now proud to say that I went back and completed by GED (high scores across the board) and now have my unversity degree. Let me tell you...each hurdle I got over I thought of looking up good ole Mr. Roots and shoving it down his throat!!
and you would never know I got my GED or unversity education based on the errors/omissions in my typing. But that is what happens when you try and type and listen to a conversation at the same time...maybe Mr Roots was right?!
Well dammit. Mr. Roots was a complete ass. I've learned that the one thing worse than high expectations are severely low expectations. Young people will only reach as high as they think they can and when someone puts in their mind that they can't reach very high, then they won't.
Way to go by overcome Mr.Roots and his low expectations. You Rock. And you did it all by yourself.
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