The Idea of an Essay, Volume 3

40 The Idea of an Essay: Volume 3 today. I didn’t cheat Miss Radin. I promise.” I pleaded as my lower lip quivered and my eyes moistened under her sharp, accusing gaze. I was humiliated, embarrassed, scared and nervous. But why? I knew the material. I loved to spell. The ability to write and discover words was incredible to me. I always admired howmy mother wrote so beautifully and swiftly. It was a big deal to me that actual words would connect and form sentences and stories from a pencil in my own hand. I was deservedly very proud of myself to be able to perform such a fascinating and lovely task. Why, being my main educator in reading, writing and arithmetic, did Miss Radin doubt my abilities? I felt the fire and brimstone burning even deeper than that though. She doubted my intellect. She doubted my competency. She doubted me, and I certainly felt stupid. Slowly rising from her hulking position over me, Miss Radin summoned a fellow teacher to accompany our class to recess. I sheepishly began to come around from behind my desk to join my classmates outside for the brief, fifteen minute reprieve from our military-like class time, when I was ordered to sit back down. “You do not have the privilege of participating in recess today Hannah David. Sit down. Take out your pencil and a blank sheet of paper. Be sure there are absolutely no words on your paper. You will retake the spelling test and you are not to have any help. Am I understood?” Miss Radin barked. “Yes Miss Radin.” My tiny frightened voice managed to squeak. I sat down and obeyed my orders all the while imagining the fresh air and exciting hula-hoop competitions I was missing. Playing and laughing with my friends in the moist grass and hot Kauai sun was the best part of the day. I always counted down the minutes to recess, but today my excitement was in vain. Miss Radin, once again, verbally administered the twelve word spelling test to the only student she should have been proud of. I was nervous. I tried to focus as doubt and shame coursed through my body. My mind was racing. “Did I cheat? I don’t think I cheated. I did my very best. Why am I in trouble? What did I do wrong? Why is she so mean and angry with me all the time? I wish I were her favorite like Jordan or Kelsey. She’s so nice to them even when they miss words or