My schooling started with Head Start, which is preschool for low income families. My only memory of these two years is when I pushed down my best friend because she was gettin' fresh with the boy I had a crush on. Yes, we were only 3 or 4 years old and the relationship drama had already started. I felt terrible and had to sit with the teacher for a little while. I can count on one hand how many times I've been in trouble at school. Overall, I was a good kid who desperately needed to feel safe and loved.
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| My sister and I dressed up for the Miss American Competition |
Then I went to a private Catholic school from kindergarten through third grade. I remember learning the alphabet with “The Letter People” and practicing with phonics workbooks. I remember SRA, learning how to write in cursive, and listening to records of the times tables. I remember the “Conduct Chart” where students colored little squares next to their name depending on what behavior occurred. Black, of course, meant that you committed some kind of sin and needed to go to confession straight away. My second grade teacher was a semi-distant cousin. She was really mean so I shared this information with no one.
My parents divorced and we had to find a new church and a new school. We moved to a neighborhood that had 100 kids per block (a big switch from growing up surrounded by cemeteries and woods), where the police made frequent visits, and where you could never been sure if someone was your friend or wanted to kick your butt. Our public school consisted of a mish-mash of children from neighborhoods all over town- it was like the Island of Misfit Toys. My sister's 6th grade teacher, who ended up being my 6th grade teacher, slammed his fist so hard on the overhead projector that the glass shattered into pieces. He taught me how to correct my cursive “R's” and I figured out that I was a really good reader that year. I swear he was bipolar.
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| I was a cheerleader for 6 years. |
Our junior and senior high schools were in the same building, so the 7th graders were mixed in with the seniors. This was terrifying. My sister was ever-so-loving referred to as “Hooters”, so I naturally became “Hooters Jr.” I played junior high volleyball and became a cheerleader thanks to my best friend who dragged me to the try outs. Volleyball didn't last, but cheerleading haunted me until the end. It was at this school that a group of tough girls decided they didn't like the attention I was getting from boys. The solution: jump me after school. Word traveled quickly that day, and my sister found me bawling in the restroom. She told me that she'd take care of it. Fifteen years later my sister told me that she had a reputation for being a tough girl for no reason other than acting like a crazy person. She never hit a person in her life- people thought she was a lunatic and stayed clear. This makes me smile.
My mom remarried, so we moved to another school and neighborhood. At the time, it felt like a horrible punishment. We were moving to the “rich” side of town and I was going to have to attend my enemy school. It didn't take long for me to find a new best friend, a new boyfriend, to be a cheerleader for the other side (what a traitor!), and to find out that I had some talent. Up until this point, I was a pretty shy girl. But my 8th grade music teacher saw something in me and casted me as Christine in our production of Phantom of the Opera. Music and acting created an avenue for my big personality to shine through and there was no going back. I trained and performed for the next 8 years. My voice brought me around the western world. It was an exciting time, but it was completely exhausting.
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My junior year I played Gloria Upson in Mame. |
To summarize, I was a solid student, involved with athletics and leadership; I found a love for community service due to involvement with my youth group. I was well-rounded and artistic. I had friends and encounters with young love. I had a few teachers who were complete superstars- I really respected them. Overall, I loved school. I still feel at home when I walk through school doors and see yellow buses. I like school supplies. Not a year has gone by when my life hasn't been dictated by an academic calendar. I get anxious in September and antsy in June. I guess it makes sense that I'm an educator, even though I never set out to be a teacher. I suppose the next blog will be: How did I end up here?
