The Idea of an Essay, Volume 3

Narrative & Memoir 41 talk before they’re called upon. Maybe if I show her how smart I am then she’ll pick me to be Peter Rabbit in the school play. I really, really hope so.” Racing at a million miles a minute my mind entertained every possibility, good and bad. If I messed up I knew I’d be in major trouble, but if I proved to her that I knew the words and got them all right, again, then maybe I would become her favorite or get to be someone special in the school play. Or, maybe she wouldn’t treat me like a degenerate, unwanted heathen child anymore. This was all wasteful, wishful thinking. Once again, I spelled all twelve words perfectly regardless of her naming them in a different order- her futile, ill willed attempt to confuse me. No one helped me the first time or the second time. I was not assisted in any way. I did not cheat. I just simply knew my material because my loving and gracious mother spent time with me perfecting my personally celebrated literary craft. I was certainly proud of myself, but that was short-lived as was every other private victory I had in that classroom, year after year. Miss Radin not only did not post my A+ paper on the board for students and parents to admire, she certainly did not congratulate me for my hard work. She did not acknowledge my honesty or apologize for her accusations. Miss Radin did not put me in the ensemble of the production of Peter Rabbit, or even slightly begin to value me as her student. I’m sure she would have held me back a grade if she had merit to do so, but she didn’t. Nothing I accomplished mattered to her regardless of it being a positive reflection on her instruction. Miss Radin’s actions and attitude that day, and every day, had deep, long lasting effects on me. She planted a seed of bitterness and distrust for instructors in my heart. I learned that day that my best didn’t matter. I, and many others, have always been completely perplexed as to why a young woman with all of her righteous indignation and intolerance, who absolutely loved the South, who still believed in racial segregation, who had very little patience for children and completely disagreed with our laid back, bikini-clad, barefoot, beach going, liberal Hawaiian-style way of life, would come to the tropics and attempt to convert such pagans. She came with the absolute wrong attitude and intentions, and damaged a lot of young hearts and minds in the process.