A few years ago I wrote a funny article about being a class clown in elementary school and a nun who tried to keep me on the straight and narrow.
The article got a good response but when I found a Facebook group having to do with my elementary school and I posted the article on the site did I really get a buzz about my piece. Students from back in the day remembered the tough as nails nun and commented with zest and funny (mostly) memories.
So, I surfed that Group trying to find a picture of me or my nemesis nun, Sister Mary Warren. No luck finding a picture of the good-sister but I found a picture of me, in kindergarten. The pic was a few years before I became a school jokester and I had never seen it before, but it made me ponder. Why had I became such a little pain in the rump back in the day but when I saw my kindergarten picture I thought perhaps, I had found the answer.
You see, the picture, (I’m on the far right on the bottom row) showed me as a happy little squared away kid all dressed up for a great day of school. But the kindergarten teacher in the picture looked anything but happy and in fact, looked like she wouldn’t want anyone around her to be happy! She looked like a real kick-ass bruiser. So, my armchair physiological guesstimate as to why I went on a quest for fun in school was because of that brute of a teacher giving me a taste of what school was going to be all about, which wasn’t anything good or fun.
Now, I say most of this in jest because I really don’t know why I became a mischievous kid and that teacher, regardless of her demeanor caught in an instant on a picture, can’t really tell the whole story. She could have been the funniest and kindest teacher around, however, I did have some serious thoughts about that picture and I’ll elaborate here.
In that pic, I saw myself as a happy little kid ready for all that the world had to offer, like so many other little kids. It made me think. How many kids who were just as ready for life, fell apart? Whether from a bad teacher, bullies, molesters or just from life kicking them around? How many grew up putting needles in their arms or abusing and selling themselves short? How many who were healthy little kids became unhealthy from too much food or alcohol? How many hated themselves for whatever reason? I know many did and some still do.
So, I have a recommendation for those who feel shitty about themselves. Find an old pic of yourself when you had a gleam in your eye. A gleam of hope, zest and one that showed that life is okay. Find that cool little kid before life had a hand in causing him or her problems. A pic where you might not even recognize yourself. That nice, that good, that hope filled innocent kid.
Two years after that kindergarten picture was taken a person tried to murder me—strangle me, and I was literally seconds from death before I was saved. In addition, I have interviewed many children who were molested so I’m not just slinging hopeful pie in the sky positive stuff here. I say, find that little kid again. It’s still you, no matter what. Get to know him or her again. He or she is still there. No matter what has happened to change that little kid that spark’s still simmering. It wants to be again. Grab it, cry a bit perhaps and know that you’re that little girl or boy and you’re going to move forward, just like it was meant to be. It’s not too late.
Here’s to a boatload of fun and contentment to the real you.
Steve’s latest book– https://tinyurl.com/zcbkkyy
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