Not So Fond Memories

Dawnyel tagged me for an interesting meme. I say interesting because most meme's have questions to answer or lists to compose. This one has a broad topic - 'Elementary School Memories'. I warned Dawnyel that if I was going to be writing about those years of my life it was not going to be all smiles and giggles. It would have been nice if it was...

I lived in a small town for my Elementary School years. My mom and I moved away from there when I was thirteen and the day we left was one of the happiest of my life. I left a lot of pain and heartache behind me as we drove away. When I think of this time in my life it really is difficult to find some happy memories. I was the victim of incessant and relentless bullying from age 5 until I left that town. I didn't have many friends as I was a town kid while most of my classmates lived on farms. I grew up as an only child would since my three much older sisters were grown and moved away and my brother, who was ten years older was too busy and 'mature' to hang out with me. Playing by myself all the time helped me to develop an incredible imagination. So I can count that as one of the few positives of having grown up that way. Okay, on to the specifics.

My Kindergarten teacher was very old. I think my kindergarten year was her last teaching year before she became the librarian. I remember her being very strict and on one occasion when another classmate and I had misbehaved (although, I can't remember what we did) she shook us. Really hard and Really fast. I recall my head literally hitting my upper back. It never occurred to me that she had done anything wrong. Until a few years back when I recalled the incident. I now look at five year olds and think “Wow, they are still just babies.” I joke that the reason I am so terrible at math is because of the brain damage I incurred during this violent shaking. She must have damaged the part of my brain that enables one to remember their multiplication tables and perform any other mathematical tasks. Another awful memory from kindergarten was playing 'Dukes of Hazzard'. I was one of three girls in my class. There were only seven of us (I think, I've blocked it out) in the class. One of the girls was the 'popular' one and the other was, um, not. So I was stuck in the middle. Cool enough to play with but not cool enough to get to be 'Daisy'. I had to be Boss Hogg. Every. Time. Even on those blessed days when Miss Popular was at home, sick, and I thought “This is my chance, my chance to be Daisy.” Nope. “We don't need Daisy today.” the boys would tell me. Do you think this could have been the start of my low self esteem? Maybe. Or it could have been that fact that those boys would flat out call me ugly and stupid right up until the day I finally moved away.

Are you wiping away tears of sympathy yet? I'm just getting started.

My mother had a thing for permanent waves. She is still a hardcore perm gal. (and sadly, I give them to her) She also inflicted her love of perms upon me. It was bad. So much worse than you are picturing. I looked like Little Orphan Annie. It was so bad in fact that two older girls once followed me around the playground all lunch hour teasing me about my awful hair. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore so I tattled to the teacher. She sent them inside to write the line “I will not tease Mama D about her horrible perm anymore.” over and over, both sides on a piece of full scap. They were done in like, five minutes and came out to continue to torment me futher. It is definitely a bad thing when your hair compels children to follow you around telling you how ugly it is. Of all the things my mother ever made me do that I argued about, I should have fought harder so she'd give up trying to make me get a perm. Ah, hindsight.

Another fond memory (ha ha ha) that I have is this one. My mom came home with a bag full of clothes for me one day. I didn't know where she had gotten them and I don't think I asked either. Some of them were pretty nice and one day I wore one of the shirts to school. A girl in the class ahead of me started laughing when she saw what I was wearing. She told me that I was wearing what used to be her shirt. I asked her what she meant. She said that her mom had left a bunch of her old clothes on a blanket at the garbage dump hoping maybe someone would see them and be able to use them. (I realize this is a horrible story. You are all cringing in embarrassment for me aren't you? In case you are confused let me clear some things up for you. #1. We didn't have much money. My mom saw perfectly good clothes that would fit me, she brought them home. What she neglected to consider was that they most definitely belonged to someone I went to school with. There were only 60 kids in my school from kindergarten to grade eight. She should have NEVER let me wear any of those things to school. #2. The small town in which I lived had no Salvation Army, Value Village or second hand store of any kind. This lady who left the clothes at the garbage dump had the best intentions. I guess the garbage dump is a second hand store in a small town. #3. In case you've never heard of or seen a garbage dump it is as you could imagine an area out of town that has large hole dug in the ground for you to throw your crap in. These clothes were laying on a blanket by the edge of the hole.) When she told me this I think I told her she was lying. I couldn't believe that my mom had given me garbage dump clothes and let me wear them to school. Then I did believe it. Then I died of embarrassment. Since I'm dead I don't remember what happened after that. Don't cry for me Argentina.

This memory is a good one except that it was born out of seething anger. Do you remember Miss Popular Daisy Duke girl from kindergarten? Well, a few years later she made me so angry one day in class and we were standing at a table across from each other. I picked up a stapler and threw it right at her head. She ducked and it left a dent in the wall. Looking back, I'm glad she ducked. I would have been is a $hit load of trouble if it had made contact. It was one of the first times I think I really stood up for myself. And I think I scared her. Even though she may have acted all nonchalant about it, I'm pretty sure she may have crapped in her pants a little. I hope so.

I do have a few scattered good memories of elementary school. I met the one and only friend that I still have from that town in that school. I stood up for her at her wedding in New Zealand a few years back and she stood up for me in mine almost 4 years ago. We both have kids now which has solidified the bond between us. I am grateful to know her even if it meant living in that horrible place. I used to lead my classmates around the school yards on 'adventures' that I would make up on the fly. It made me feel special that they enjoyed my 'adventures'. Floor Hockey with the boys. Murder Ball in the gym... I liked that. Even better with the lights off. Is it any wonder that I became a martial artist? Um, yep. That's all I can think of. A few other awful stories are coming to mind but I don't want to scare you all off. “That Mama D, her childhood was messed up. I think she must be crazy.” For the record the above stories are not the ones that led to my insanity. Those stories are much, much worse. Well Dawnyel, you asked for it. Perhaps I shouldn't be tagged for any memes requiring me to disclose any details about my life prior to grade eight. That would be a safer for everyone that way.

Oh yeah, so I guess I'm supposed to tag people. I'm going to tag two of my favorite gals. Bon and Beth cause I'm hoping they actually have some happy, funny memories from their early years!