Introspection

I had simply forgotten just how wonderful it is to have alone time.

Time to think.

Time to reflect.

Time to plan.

Time to remember.

Over the years, not only did I forget the art of introspection, but some memories were just too painful to think about. So, I packaged them all away in my memory bank and bannished them from my consciousness.

Now, along with everything else, they are beginning to surface. And now, after so much time, I've found that they aren't nearly as painful memories as I had remembered.

Thank goodness for time.

One of the memories I have come across is one from first grade. Why this should surface at this point in my life, but here it goes.

I had a horror of a teacher, who, upon looking back now was a spinster. In her 60's, she was the epitome of what today would be called BUTCHNESS. And, on top of this, she made it clear that she had no time for boys in her class. I remember at the time, trying to process this in my 6 year old mind: why doesn't she like me?

On the first day of school, she put me in the corner for talking. She made fun of me and taunted me for not having gone to kindergarten. She told me that I was ugly. She told me that I had a big neck.

On and on she would taunt, belittle, and spank...primarily BOYS. Come to think about it....I don't think I ever saw her mistreat a little girl.

It makes one wonder how someone like that could be a teacher. She taught for many years too.

I've since learned that she died finally, circa 1980. From what I learned, she died a very sad and painful death.

All the things I can remember about her could fill a book. But I won't belabor this.

When folks talk about their fondness for their teachers, I never forget to mention my first grade teacher....I say that she was something else....and had to hold down a second job as a test pilot in a broom factory.

"Surrender Dorothy!"