As a young child I attended a school that was a little different. Kindergarten is where they decided who could stay at the school and who would have to go on to something different. The school was art based and accelerated. Kindergarten was fairly normal as far as I can remember. I do not remember the teacher's name at all. I do remember coming in late from an eye doctor appointment. I had been allowed to choose a toy at the doctor's office and was playing with it in class. The teacher took it from me and placed it on top of an upright piano. I certainly wasn't happy about this at all. I knew that when she took something, it was never given back. As soon as she wasn't looking I drug a chair over to the piano and retrieved my toy, hiding it again in my pocket. She didn't catch me and as far as I know never even noticed that I had taken it back. Even at that young age, I was not going to let some woman take something that belonged to me. My home life had already set me up to have little regard for any female authority figure.
When first grade came along we had at least two hours of either music or art every day. For the other classes they had us divided up according to ability. We went to different classes with different students and teachers much like high school students do. Learning came easy to me in every subject except math. I wasn't good at it, so I hated it. As crazy as my home life was, I really was not a problem student. I enjoyed being in class and loved learning. The playground was a different story altogether. Being so tiny, I was picked on and teased a lot.
Art classes were my favorite. I remember Mrs. Rose. She was a stern older woman and took no nonsense from anyone. I actually liked her for being like that. At our school, parents had to sign a waiver to allow the teachers and staff to use corporal punishment on the students. My father would not sign that form.. No one was going to do anything to his girl. Mrs. Rose had a small round paddle hanging inside the door of the classroom and a chair sitting outside of it. There was always a couple of different projects going on in her classroom. Everyone really had to follow the rules for safety's sake. We were taught to color in a certain way. Coloring for fun was not an option in this class. We practiced different ways of coloring with different art forms. Looking back, Mrs. Rose seemed to be quick to scold and to request that a project be redone the correct way. She slapped the hands of students and anyone who violated a safety rule or talked back to her was taken to the chair and paddled.
Around Christmas time the room was filled with activity. There were hot irons and glue guns and spray paints set up. We all had been taught how to use them safely and when we actually could use them. I had just finished what to me was the most gorgeous Christmas tree I had ever made. I was so proud of it and Mrs. Rose had praised my progress a few times. It was finished and I couldn't wait to show it to her. As I was walking toward her, another girl started messing around the iron and ironing board, knocking the iron to the floor. As I got close to Mrs. Rose to show her what I had made, she turned away from me, took the girl by the arm and lead her out of the room and started paddling her. We all heard it. I felt like something snapped in me. Suddenly, I was furious. I went to the huge trash can and absolutely tore up my project. I no longer wanted her to see it. I didn't want anyone to see it. I didn't want it to exist anymore!
So, what happened? For me, Mrs. Rose was the first female authority figure that I had some respect for. I craved her approval and praise. I don't remember ever wishing that she were my mother, but I can imagine that I probably did. When she turned her back to me, rejection hit me full force. I think for me it was the same sort of feeling from when I had hit my mother and she just walked away. I no longer cared about what she (Mrs.Rose) thought about anything I did. That rejection, that was no way intentional on her part, changed how I felt toward her forever.
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