When I was six years old I really wanted a baby doll...a black
one. My friend Susie had one although she was white as were all the other kids
in our neighborhood. Susie was progressive and I was confused. I remember
thinking that I shouldn't really want a doll...and I'm not sure if I ever
actually asked Santa or the Easter Bunny for one....but I never got one, so we
had to share. Susie's Dad was a doctor so she always seemed to get extravagant
toys...like a really big dollhouse that we played with for hours. Our other
friend Billy was into more normal boy things...cowboys and Indians and holsters
and guns. Every picture of him shows him with some wild west outfit on while
Susie and I look like the Bobsy twins. On Halloween we dressed like tigers with
big long tails and Billy was a monster.
Since I was a Catholic and Susie and Billy were pagans, we
went to different schools. On my first day I stood in the playground in my
little gray coat holding my Mom's hand while we waited for the bell to ring. One
of the nuns who looked to be about nine feet tall came over and began gathering
us first graders together and I very reluctantly released my Mother's hand and
was taken away to the gallows. To my surprise my own teacher Sister Theckla was
much prettier and nicer that her name was, but I was horrified to learn that we
were expected to come to school every day. I thought it would be more of a short
term commitment.
Philip Slatbridge sat in the first row and was trouble for all
of us from the get go. When Sister would tell us to color the apples red, Philip
would make them black. Anytime I glanced at his desk he'd just be scribbling all
over his paper as I strolled up the aisle with my perfectly colored circles and
squares. I was distraught to learn that Philip and I were thrown together at the
same bus stop at 3:00, and since I looked so much like Little Lord Fauntleroy in
my little gray coat (with matching cap of course) he naturally picked on me. I
tell people that he beat me up every day in first grade but I think he probably
just pushed me around a lot. I still dream about tracking him down and killing
him. (not really),
well...maybe kinda really. I actually told my parents that the
nuns used to trap him in the office with yard sticks and take turns beating him.
Maybe they did.
My parents were baffled by many things about me (duh!)
especially my refusal to go to school without my gray coat and hat. Around this
time of year it was warming up and I still insisted on my little uniform. When
it got to be around 80 degrees and I was still bundling up we had a show down.
After a major inquisition I provided my explanation. At the end of each day,
Sister Theckla would say " You may go to the cloakroom now and get your wraps
and then you can line up to go home". I interpreted that to mean...have a "wrap"
or you stay here. My gray coat was my ticket out. It took a great deal of
convincing for me to arrive without my green card...but it sure felt a lot
cooler as I rushed home to change our shared baby doll and rearrange the
dollhouse. This school thing really interfered with my very busy schedule. More
about that later.
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