So, Today's DeLorean trip, will be taking us to the 1983-1984 school year. I was in kindergarten, at Leesburg Elementary School.
(Disclaimer: This was the WORST year of my school-age life. You'll see why.....
I was 5 years old when I began kindergarten. My parent's never put me in preschool, so other than my cousins coming over on a few weekends here and there, and most of the summers, I only had my adult family members and my aunt Anna (she's 8 years older than me.) to hang around with. So I was missing the social aspect of dealing with kids other than family members.
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| Me, age 5. (Notice the sticker on my shirt, that was given to me by my friend , Rebbeca. I refused to take it off.lol) |
I remember my mom and grandma driving me to school that day. I was not very excited to be away from them! I was a "mommy's girl" and just as much a "grandma's girl", since I was there most everyday of my life. But they assured me, that my teacher (We'll call her Mrs. D.) was a nice woman, and that I would be fine.
When my mom left me with the rest of my class, I had tears in my eyes, but was not crying. I soon made friends with the 2 girls at my table, Rebbeca and Jaime. Rebbeca was shy and quiet, like myself, and Jaime was silly and made me laugh.
The first thing we did that day was make a craft of some sort. I thought to myself, "I can do this!!" Then I spilled my glue, and the tears welled up in my eyes, and I lost it. The teacher was nice, and managed to calm me down. This would probably be the last time that woman made me feel safe and secure.
The next day, I cried on the way to school. I was content staying at home with my mom, and didn't see why I even had to go. When they dropped me off that day, I was still crying. The teacher assured my mom, that once again, I would be fine. But I noticed, "She doesn't seem as nice as she did yesterday...)
For some reason, I didn't feel the comfort and safety like the day before. She began to raise her voice a lot throughout the day, which made me jump, because I was never looking for it. She seemed to become frustrated with the fact that I cried everyday, which made her act hateful towards me. I was told to "Stop crying!!" which you know works wonders in making kids stop crying. It ranks right up there with, "Stop crying, or I'll GIVE you something to cry about!!"
I cried every single day of school. Even in the other mother's cars, who took turns taking the neighborhood kindergartners to school. Some of them actually took mercy on me, and took me back home. (Although, it might have been mercy for them. I could raise quite a fuss.lol) I only remember not crying for two days out of the whole year. The first was the last day before Christmas vacation, and the last was the last day of school before summer. Go figure. Time away from the evil queen.
I can even remember one day, I tried hard not to cry, and succeeded. I was so proud of myself! I said, "Mrs. D.!! I didn't cry today!!" I guess I was desperately trying to seek her approval. But then it was story time. We all sat on the floor, while the teacher sat in her rocker and read to us. While she was reading, I found a safety pin on the floor, and began to fiddle with it. One thing lead to another, and I poked myself in the eye. I didn't cry, but what's the first thing that happens when you poke yourself in the eye? You're eyes watter. Mrs. D. saw that my eyes were watering, looked down at me, pointed her finger, and said "Stop it!!" I was crushed. But I still managed to hold back the real tears....to a point.
But I would have to say, the worst thing that she ever did to me that year, has been in the back of my mind since it happened.
There was a boy in my class named Casey. He had brought a small toy to school that day, and it became lost. The teacher asked us all to look everywhere for it, but it still couldn't be found. Then she asked if someone took it. No one answered. She preceded to take every one's coats out of the closet to look in the pockets. Still no toy.
Then, she looked down at me, and asked, "Amy, did you take it?' I said no, and couldn't figure out why she was asking only me. Then she said, "Amy, I know you took it!! Where is it?!" I then replied, "I didn't take it." I then began to cry, because I didn't understand why she was picking on me.
She then said, "If you don't tell the truth, I'm going to send you to the Principal's office!!" That scared me so much, that even though I didn't take the toy, I said I did. I was devastated.
The toy was found shortly after, under another table. I never told my parent's until years later. I hadn't known at the time, but my mom actually tried to have me moved to another classroom that year, but the school wouldn't allow it. My mom said she knew something was going on with me. She just didn't know what.
The only time I felt liked and loved, in my classroom that year, was when my friend Rebbeca's mom came in to help. She was so kind to me, and I had a feeling even then, that she knew I was being picked on.
I was 5 years old! Do you know how scared I was for my daughter to start kindergarten? I kept thinking, What if the same thing happens, and she's too afraid to tell me? I got lucky though. Her teacher was kind and soft spoken. I even expressed my fears to her at our first parent-teacher conference. She couldn't believe what had happened. I still can't. I was so shy. So quiet.
One day in 5th grade, I got brave and approached Mrs. D., and confronted her about it. All she had to say to me was, "Well, why didn't you tell me you didn't do it?" I was in awe. I'm so thankful that woman isn't teaching anymore.
It turns out, I wasn't the only one that was picked on. The more I told my story, the more others spoke out about how they, or their siblings, were mistreated through the years. It turns out she mostly liked to pick on the shy kids. I even saw her drag a little boy down the hallway by his ear. His ear!! I was in 5th grade, and I remember thinking, "You wicked old witch!! I hope someone drops a house on you!!"
(My mom later told me, that when she was a young girl, she too was mistreated by an elementary teacher. But she had to endure far worse circumstances than I did. Like myself, she was a shy, quiet child. She was also hard of hearing, due to a high fever at a young age. I'm not sure she would like me to share what happened to her, but I can tell you that when she told me, I cried for her.)
Well, my shyness pretty much went away by the time I hit 5th and 6th grade. I'm an outspoken, mommy of 3 now. So, look out mean teachers!! Momma Amy's on the prowl!!
I cried every single day of school. Even in the other mother's cars, who took turns taking the neighborhood kindergartners to school. Some of them actually took mercy on me, and took me back home. (Although, it might have been mercy for them. I could raise quite a fuss.lol) I only remember not crying for two days out of the whole year. The first was the last day before Christmas vacation, and the last was the last day of school before summer. Go figure. Time away from the evil queen.
I can even remember one day, I tried hard not to cry, and succeeded. I was so proud of myself! I said, "Mrs. D.!! I didn't cry today!!" I guess I was desperately trying to seek her approval. But then it was story time. We all sat on the floor, while the teacher sat in her rocker and read to us. While she was reading, I found a safety pin on the floor, and began to fiddle with it. One thing lead to another, and I poked myself in the eye. I didn't cry, but what's the first thing that happens when you poke yourself in the eye? You're eyes watter. Mrs. D. saw that my eyes were watering, looked down at me, pointed her finger, and said "Stop it!!" I was crushed. But I still managed to hold back the real tears....to a point.
But I would have to say, the worst thing that she ever did to me that year, has been in the back of my mind since it happened.
There was a boy in my class named Casey. He had brought a small toy to school that day, and it became lost. The teacher asked us all to look everywhere for it, but it still couldn't be found. Then she asked if someone took it. No one answered. She preceded to take every one's coats out of the closet to look in the pockets. Still no toy.
Then, she looked down at me, and asked, "Amy, did you take it?' I said no, and couldn't figure out why she was asking only me. Then she said, "Amy, I know you took it!! Where is it?!" I then replied, "I didn't take it." I then began to cry, because I didn't understand why she was picking on me.
She then said, "If you don't tell the truth, I'm going to send you to the Principal's office!!" That scared me so much, that even though I didn't take the toy, I said I did. I was devastated.
The toy was found shortly after, under another table. I never told my parent's until years later. I hadn't known at the time, but my mom actually tried to have me moved to another classroom that year, but the school wouldn't allow it. My mom said she knew something was going on with me. She just didn't know what.
The only time I felt liked and loved, in my classroom that year, was when my friend Rebbeca's mom came in to help. She was so kind to me, and I had a feeling even then, that she knew I was being picked on.
I was 5 years old! Do you know how scared I was for my daughter to start kindergarten? I kept thinking, What if the same thing happens, and she's too afraid to tell me? I got lucky though. Her teacher was kind and soft spoken. I even expressed my fears to her at our first parent-teacher conference. She couldn't believe what had happened. I still can't. I was so shy. So quiet.
One day in 5th grade, I got brave and approached Mrs. D., and confronted her about it. All she had to say to me was, "Well, why didn't you tell me you didn't do it?" I was in awe. I'm so thankful that woman isn't teaching anymore.
It turns out, I wasn't the only one that was picked on. The more I told my story, the more others spoke out about how they, or their siblings, were mistreated through the years. It turns out she mostly liked to pick on the shy kids. I even saw her drag a little boy down the hallway by his ear. His ear!! I was in 5th grade, and I remember thinking, "You wicked old witch!! I hope someone drops a house on you!!"
(My mom later told me, that when she was a young girl, she too was mistreated by an elementary teacher. But she had to endure far worse circumstances than I did. Like myself, she was a shy, quiet child. She was also hard of hearing, due to a high fever at a young age. I'm not sure she would like me to share what happened to her, but I can tell you that when she told me, I cried for her.)
Well, my shyness pretty much went away by the time I hit 5th and 6th grade. I'm an outspoken, mommy of 3 now. So, look out mean teachers!! Momma Amy's on the prowl!!
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