One Teacher At Fault?

I grew up feeling loved, happy, and safe in my home with my family. I was secure in my place in the world. I knew I was an important member of my family. My siblings were my friends and playmates. I had no reason to think otherwise that our family was the best in the world. Then, I started school.

I don't really remember much of my younger school years. I have vague memories of riding on the bus, but nothing else, except for the memory of a day in kindergarten that has stayed in my mind like a scary nightmare. The event happened early in the school year, before I had a chance to get used to the whole experience of school. I was sitting at a round table with my classmates happily coloring. Suddenly, the teacher appeared and started accusing me of copying from my neighbor. She was very judgmental and righteous and told me to put my head down on my arms and stay that way until everyone was finished coloring. I was scared and confused and humiliated. I knew I wasn't supposed to misbehave in public, especially at school, and I felt lonely and unloved. The worst part of the entire affair was that I had no idea what I had done wrong. At home I copied all the time. I copied words from books to pretend I was writing; I copied pictures I liked; and my siblings and I copied from each other if we especially liked the other's choice of colors. It was never considered to be wrong. It was part of learning. I don't remember anything else about that day, just that my teacher punished me because I was "bad."

From that day on I became a scared little girl, not at home, but in the rest of the world. Everywhere I went I was afraid and shy and worried that I would unknowingly do something wrong. I always wanted to know the rules first. Even now I always check the rules (regulations, policies, guidelines) before I start anything new. People in positions of authority worried me until I got to know them and believed they accepted me as I was. I needed to be sure of what was considered to be wrong before I could feel safe.

It wasn't until just recently that I finally connected the dots. I had always felt I was just a shy kid; I never connected the trauma of that early experience in school with my fears and obsessions later. I now know differently. And when my daughter decided to homeschool her son, I gave her all the support and encouragement I could to keep my grandson from unschooled and unfeeling teachers.