I’m in third grade and in love with two things. The first is Miss Moken, my fashion icon, who teaches in sleeveless shifts and heels. The second is my Brownie uniform. I get to wear it to school every Wednesday, which, in my mind, gives me an air of importance. I have after-school meetings to get to. I have badges to earn. I’m a Brownie.
You nailed it! Brought me right back to my own classroom scandal. The puddle was there, in front of the classroom, but no one knew from where it came. Nasty Mrs. Monarch shouted, and threatened to check each one of us to see who was wet. So creepy. I can still feel my terror as I held back my tears and squirmed in my wet woolen tights.
This is so well written and incredibly poignant. Such a perfect description of the girl who always follows rules and the dire consequences and utter humiliation that follow. Your teacher! Such kindness with that sweater! And I love your moms advice. I just love the whole piece - you capture so beautifully what it means to be a child. Particularly love the detail of the orange juice in the thermos because what kid gets that anymore?!
I left a banana in the bottom of my 5th grade locker for the better part of a year. It remained miraculously concealed and semi-preserved, covered up by a cheap frisbee I won at the school carnival and a pile of old graded quizzes and half-assed class notes.
The site and smell of that blackened but still slimy fruit corpse rocked the class and brought much unwanted attention. Fortunately, it was also the last day of school.
Oh, and I remember more than one kid piddling themselves in class. So, no big whoop, Debra.
Wow, Debra, you captured one of our biggest fears in grade school so brilliantly. I felt I was right there with you. The humiliation you felt. The discomfort. But these 2 lovely women helped you through it and that’s something to truly admire. You are most generous for sharing this!
Just the right mix of childhood heartache and grownup empathy, Debra. You’ve done it again. Let’s end the writer’s strike and get you into the writer’s room ♥️
Oh, Teresa, my love... thank you. I really need to learn to market my damned self one of these days. Maybe I have to pretend I'm a bar of soap, because that, I know how to do. xx
You nailed it! Brought me right back to my own classroom scandal. The puddle was there, in front of the classroom, but no one knew from where it came. Nasty Mrs. Monarch shouted, and threatened to check each one of us to see who was wet. So creepy. I can still feel my terror as I held back my tears and squirmed in my wet woolen tights.
Oh my gosh, you had Nasty Mrs. Monarch and I had Nice Miss Moken. How differently they dealt with our puddles.
...and now I'm wet. Well, my eyes are. Beautiful story, as always, Debra.
Thank you, Lesly! xx
This is so well written and incredibly poignant. Such a perfect description of the girl who always follows rules and the dire consequences and utter humiliation that follow. Your teacher! Such kindness with that sweater! And I love your moms advice. I just love the whole piece - you capture so beautifully what it means to be a child. Particularly love the detail of the orange juice in the thermos because what kid gets that anymore?!
Haha - so true - I remember how it tasted - slightly warm and more tart than out of the fridge.
I left a banana in the bottom of my 5th grade locker for the better part of a year. It remained miraculously concealed and semi-preserved, covered up by a cheap frisbee I won at the school carnival and a pile of old graded quizzes and half-assed class notes.
The site and smell of that blackened but still slimy fruit corpse rocked the class and brought much unwanted attention. Fortunately, it was also the last day of school.
Oh, and I remember more than one kid piddling themselves in class. So, no big whoop, Debra.
-Bart (the gross kid)
This was such captivating writing
Thank you so much!
Wow, Debra, you captured one of our biggest fears in grade school so brilliantly. I felt I was right there with you. The humiliation you felt. The discomfort. But these 2 lovely women helped you through it and that’s something to truly admire. You are most generous for sharing this!
Thank you, Laura. And yeah, thank God for the two kind women who saved me that day.
Just the right mix of childhood heartache and grownup empathy, Debra. You’ve done it again. Let’s end the writer’s strike and get you into the writer’s room ♥️
Oh, Teresa, my love... thank you. I really need to learn to market my damned self one of these days. Maybe I have to pretend I'm a bar of soap, because that, I know how to do. xx
I love this story on so many levels. Wonderfully written!
Thank you so much, Beth! That means a lot to me. xx
Lovely
Thank you, Bob! So good to hear praise from someone I admire so much.
Thank you so much, @Casually Villainy!