Wednesday, June 15, 2011

For Better or For Worse?

When I read this morning's comic it made my mind jump back many many years to eighth grade.  My teacher’s name was Mrs Roach… yes that was really her name.  She didn’t like me, and I knew that from day one in her classroom.  She treated me like I was an alien child from Mars.  I was an extremely well behaved alien.  I sat in the front of the room so she could keep an eye on me, I was always asked the hardest questions, and I was never chosen for any good stuff, like being #1 in line.  I was so happy to finish 7th grade and be done with Mrs Roach. 

On day one of eighth grade I knew I was in trouble… my teacher was the one and only Mrs Roach.  Nothing changed, she went out of her way to make me miserable.  My personal life was hell and so was school… my only escape was graduation then summer and I couldn’t wait for it to start.  I couldn’t wait for graduation and to be free of Mrs Roach.   

After graduation my brother and I went to the beach to live with my Grandmother for the summer as we had most of my life.  One day since I had enough money to get in I was spending the day at the Steel Pier.  I loved going to the movies and the shows, and did it as often as I could.  It was a big part of my summer every year. 

This one day I was there I walked around a corner and there were ALL of the girls from my 8th grade class, every single one of them.  We laughed at running into each other and giggled and talked and then… Mrs Roach was there.  She had brought ALL of the girls to the Pier for a graduation gift…. all of them but one, me.  And just who did they happen to run into while there, the outcast, me, all by myself having the time of my life.  Even as an immature 8th grader, almost a high schooler, I could tell she was embarrassed.  She said she didn’t know how to get in touch with me…  funny since she always knew how to call my Grandmother when she wanted to complain about something for two years in school. 

And I graciously put her right in her place… I said something like this was no big deal for me, I practically lived at the Pier and was there all the time.  They all went their way and I went into the nearest ladies room I could find and had a good cry.  Life’s lessons are sometimes hard and cruel, and that was Mrs Roach.  She was no Mrs. Hardacre.


1 comment:

  1. Your experience illustrates that adults are sometimes students. I bet Mrs. Roach never forgot the lesson you taught her that day!

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