Second Grade We still didn't know what was wrong with me, so obviously we wouldn't know how to deal with my problem. So when I was told I would be staying after school to read, I didn't mind, I loved to read. But when I got a book off the shelf and started reading, my teacher told me I had to read out loud. I tried, but obviously couldn't do it. I was told I wouldn't be able to leave until I read something. The funny thing about me was I seemed to always know that I couldn't talk, and I was pretty much resigned to that fact ahead of time. I remember I wasn't too scared, because they had to let me go before it got dark, right? I never thought, "Oh no, I better say something quick!" No, I thought, "My mom has to come for me sometime, and then they'll let me go." I already knew that no matter what they threatened, I wouldn't be able to talk. And in this case, I knew the teacher wouldn't want to stay there forever waiting for me to read, so I just had to wait her out. My whole life was waiting other people out, to see how long it would take people to get sick of trying to make me talk. My teacher also made a 'deal' with me that I would talk to the class by Christmas. I was basically trapped back by the closets where she asked me if I would try to talk by then. Since the whole class was watching, as though it was all planned ahead of time, and I wanted her to leave me alone, I agreed. Even though I didn't know what a 'deal' was, my teacher stuck out her hand and we made a deal. And when Christmas came and I didn't talk, my teacher reminded me of our deal, in front of the whole class. I had expected her to forget actually. She tried to make me feel guilty about it, but I just figured it was her own fault for forcing me into something I didn't want to do. This was the year of my first Penance. I spent hours writing out everything that everyone else would normally say, making sure it was all right. Everything went fine my first few times of going to confession. At school we went about once a month. I always had to go to my regular church priest, even though they had priests there from all different churches in the area. He accepted my written confession, until I had gone a few times. He started telling me I would have to start talking, that it 'took too long' to do it with the written notes (even though it was ALREADY WRITTEN OUT and I always took less time than everyone else). It didn't help either that even though I didn't have many sins since I've always been one of those people that has to do everything right and not offend anyone, he would always ask me if I was sure that the sins I had written were all I had. He even told me that not confessing all the sins you knew about was a sin. So I would make something else up, and he would be happy then. I didn't like to take days off school because I didn't have a friend I could get assignments from, but I always played sick when we had school confession. My mom had to know something was wrong, as every time I played sick she would check the calendar, but I don't what was done about it. I got my glasses this year. The first day I wore them to class, I got as far as the door before panicking and asking my mom if I could just wear them at home and not school so no one would see me with them on. I practically had to be pushed through the door. The whole way to my desk, I covered my face with my pencil case. As soon as I sat down I put my head down on my desk. Naturally everyone was staring. Eventually I got over it. Then there was the time I forgot my glasses (I guess I didn't realize that I couldn't see anything). I couldn't see a thing, and had no way to tell anyone. I was too scared to write my teacher a note, so I had to spend the whole day pretending to know what I was doing. I still wasn't able to let the teacher know when I needed to use the bathroom. One day, we were cleaning the room, basically redecorating for the holidays and reorganizing everything. I was having fun, more than usual for me in school, but eventually I had to go to the bathroom. I tried to ignore it, but soon it was so bad I started crying. My teacher thought I was sick, so we called my mom to come take me home. When she came my teacher said something about how 'they always get sick when there's work to do!' If only someone had thought of giving me some kind of hand signal or something to let the teacher know when I needed to use the bathroom. Actually, to be honest, the DID give me a way to let the teacher know when I needed to go. I don't know if the teacher thought it would be funny, or if they just thought that humiliating me would help me to stop having 'accidents' in school. My teacher had made up a sign with 'I NEED TO USE THE BATHROOM' written on it, in letters that, it seemed to me, could have been read a mile away. It was on an 8x11 inch piece of paper. She made a big show of holding it up so everyone could read it and presenting it to me in front of the whole class. I mean, when she held it up, I could read it easily, and I sat all the way in the back of the room. I couldn't see anything as I shoved it far to the back of my desk, because my eyes were too full of tears. While it's hard to believe now, she was actually one of my favorite teachers. If only I knew then what I know now. Previous | Next
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