Letter

Dear Mrs ******,

         Being a teacher is perhaps one of the most important jobs there is. A teacher is a magician, a miracle worker, a friend, a guidance counselor and perhaps most importantly, someone who sees the potential and greatness in very pupal and doesn't give up until that potential is realized and reached. This job isn't meant for the faint of heart or someone with low patience. You unfortunately have both.

This letter is so long in the making and is something I wish I had written back before you retired. But here we are and now it's time. I know you wouldn't recognize me now, there's no way. I'm so different from the fourth grader you once knew. Thank goodness for that. I was such a fearful and small creature back then, I wouldn't go back to that person for anything. You certainly didn't help the situation any, if anything you made it much worse. But I doubt you'd see it that way if you remembered anything at all. But facts are still facts regardless, and the fact stands that you impacted my life in such a powerfully and even horrifically negative way that I still can't forget.

I honestly don't remember much of my fourth grade year, it's all a blur for the most part, but there are a few faces and event's that are as clear to me as though they happened yesterday. I remember a sweet, mentally handicapped child named Hannah, a bully and you. Although you belong in the bully category as well. I used to think that adults couldn't be bullies, couldn't be cruel, but you are proof that is far from true. In fact, you are the second nastiest person I've ever had the misfortune to know.
I don't understand to this day why you hated me so much, why you belittled me and made me feel so small and worthless. I was a child, and you took advantage of my naivete and thus created the most powerful memory of fear and shame that I have.

I remember it was clear out, I sitting by the window watching a bird and daydreaming. You were constantly accusing me of being 'spacey' and doing it in a manner that was unnecessary. I remember the hard stiffness of the chair and the feeling of desk pressing into my stomach. It was uncomfortable, with a straight back and no contours in the seat. I remember that stupid worksheet you'd given me to work on and I remember not understanding how to do it but being too afraid to ask for help. I believe at some point the rest of the class must have finished the assignment because you pulled me aside with this expression on your face I'll never forget. I don't even know if there are words to describe it but it transformed your face into something ugly.

Then you took me to the 'interrogation room', that small side room that was attached to the class room that you primarily used for small group sessions. It smelled strongly of windex, the whole room smelled so sterile and closed off. How fitting then because that's what it felt like. I felt so small at that moment, weak. Like a lamb to the slaughter. I knew I was in trouble though I didn't fully understand why. The rest of what transpired was you becoming increasingly more frustrated and annoyed with me and me trying not to cry. Then, what happened next has haunted me up until this point. You informed me with careful precision and delicately chosen words that I was stupid and I wouldn't never amount to anything...ever.

So here I am, 24 years old, a college graduate and living successfully on my own and I'm still having nightmares about that day. It's not fair or right, but your face and voice always manage to make a reappearance whenever I'm about to make a big decision or do anything that scares me. So for that...fuck you. You don't have that right to belittled or shame anyone. You don't have to right to judge or tell children they're not good enough. You are a perverted version of what a teacher should be.

Perhaps you hated me because in me you saw the truth; that you'd never be a good teacher and you lacked the creativity, kindness and a true inspiring power that a real teacher possesses. Because after I left that school I learned what a real teacher is. Those individuals are nothing like you. They are open to all students, they are excited and passionate about knowledge and helping everyone reach the stars. To them learning isn't just about what the state or even the government deems worthy of being taught. It isn't all about the test or the text book. They are interested in new ideas, progression and expansion. They encourage all forms of learning and differences. It isn't all about tests and memorizing. It's about using that knowledge and creating a better thinking individual who helps to mold and shape the future. You didn't teach me anything. You certainly didn't inspire me. All I really remember is feeling like nothing, less than nothing, and being so ashamed and sad. You did that. You had no right.

So, here I am at a time in my life where the road is open and the possibilities are endless and you can't take that from me. I may not have it all figured out but I know this....it's mine to decided and mine to create. I know I'm no fool nor am I stupid and damn you for poisoning me with self doubt and fear for so long. I know I'll never forget and maybe one day I'll forgive you, but for right now I'm going to content myself with reminding you of a little girl that you tried to break who is anything but broken now.

Let Go

I was fired from my job on Saturday July 20th 2013, roughly around 4:30pm. I was fired because I wasn't meeting my numbers. In the company of Dillard's every associate has a personal sales goal and when they fail to meet that goal, the reasons don't matter, Dillard's will first decrease the associate pay and if that doesn't inspire them to become more aggressive/work harder then termination is the next step.

This was my first 'real' and serious job after being in school pretty much all my life. I knew it wouldn't last forever, I knew that eventually I'd move on and do something else.....but I had set a goal. To last one full year there, one year and if I managed to make it there longer than that would be good too. I was hired August 8th, 2012 and if they had just waited a few more weeks I would have made it.

Since it happened I can't seem to sleep, or at least not restfully. Even though the job wasn't perfect and there were policies that I really disagreed with and ways the company did business that made me so angry, I still took a lot of pride in my work. I learned so much about myself, my skills and talents and in general who I am as a young professional. So, I can't begrudge Dillard's for that.

However, I can dislike them for the way the treat their employees. And I do. I think it's wrong and backwards.

I was so fortunate to have a boss/manager that I really clicked with. He and I will hopefully remain friends for a very long time. And some of my co-workers I really got on with too. I miss that aspect of it. The social interactions and the making people happy. I made friends with some of the customers and I made quite a few of them laugh too. I helped to create an environment that even I'd want to go shopping in.

So, this is my way of coming to terms with what happened and allowing myself to not feel guilty that I didn't meet my goal or embarrassed that I was fired. I'll get another job, and probably another and another after that. I might have ten million different jobs by the time my life is over but what matters is...that's okay. Because change isn't bad and this was a change that needed to happen. Even if I wasn't emotionally ready for it, it was time.

I'm going to make it through this, because that's what I do. I get by.

Good girl

I'm not a stickler for rules but I follow most of them. I don't do drugs but I don't necessarily frown on doing them. I haven't been intimate with anyone in a while but that doesn't mean I think being sexual or sexuality is wrong. I don't drink but that doesn't mean I snub my nose if you do. I say 'ma'am' and 'sir' as well as 'please and thank you' to people because it's polite and not because I live in the south.
I get up early so I can eat a proper breakfast so I can function at work and not because I like getting up early. I leave early so I can arrive on time because it's rude and disrespectful to arrive late.
I was raised to be conscientious, courteous and considerate. So, naturally, I behave as such.

I'm not a good girl. I'm a good person. Being a good girl implies things to me that I don't believe I fit. I'm not innocent, but I can be naive sometimes. I'm not going to brake a rule if I agree with it. I question things I don't agree with and ask questions to understand why something is the way it is. I believe everything we do and say matters so we need to act accordingly.

I'm not perfect, far from it, but I do try to be the best I can be. I want to be liked, admired and respected but I also will be true to myself regardless if others approve. Approval can be tedious and boring just as rejection can be painful and harmful. 

Don't call me a good girl and don't call me a bad girl. I'm not really either. I'm just me. I'm not 'good' because I follow rules anymore than I am 'bad' for swearing or wearing black nail polish. I'm just me.

I'll probably write more on this topic later but for now I just want to communicate that 'bad' and 'good' are foggy terms with meanings even more muddy.

If your actions are going to end in yourself or someone else being affected in a negative way then it's probably a 'bad' thing to do. Our actions are what define us and I want my actions to say positive things about me. What do your actions say?

fresh start

Hi. It's been far too long since I've done anything with this blog, and because of that I'm sure no one is reading this or checking in anymore. Which is fine and fair. I haven't posted anything in such a long long time that I couldn't possibly blame anyone. Anyone other than myself perhaps.

So, why am I posting now, especially after such a long absence? Because it's time. I need to do this, I need to start this again. I need a fresh start, a place to think again, to rant and rage if I wish, a place to put down thoughts and idea's. This blog was supposed to function as that place. But I lost interest and now here I am again. Interested in trying again. It feels like I've been in a coma for a long time, like I've been under water. But now I'm here again and if no one reads this but me that's fine. This isn't about anyone else right now. It's about me and being 'reborn' again. I've always loved writing and for so long now the voices that usually inspired me have been silent. I have no idea why, but they've come back alive and they're hungry. So, they sent me here.

So, here I am again. There's a new chapter in my life, I've graduated from college, I'm working full time and I need a mental escape. I need this blog and so here I am. This is the start to a fresh new chapter.

Welcome back to me. It's been so long.