From the Ungodly Assignment of DOOM

Yeah, it's been eons. Forgive me. I have a lot of homework. Here is some of it.




School Memories

A Rocky Beginning - Kindergarten

From the moment that I entered the public school system one warm, August morning in 1996, I knew that I was in trouble. We, the young minds to be meticulously clipped and shaped like the Bonsai tree, were herded into the enormous auditorium where a thundering echo welcomed us back for "another great year!" and began rattling off names and their respective classes. I could not make out what the speaker was saying. There seemed to be a half a million conversations going on at once. They all blended together into nothingness. Every so often The Man with the Mic would raise a hand and ask for silence to no avail. I stared at the ceiling and watched the orange, flickering lights above me. Clearly they were never meant to be on such a dim setting.

Suddenly everyone rose from their seats and began to walk away. I lagged behind and ended up being escorted to class by The Man with the Mic. From there I received an overly enthusiastic greeting from my teacher Ms. Medders (I heard Letters) as she walked me to my assigned seat at a large table. I was amazed that she already seemed to know me. I had never met her before as far as I could remember. How could she have known what name to write on the label in front of my chair?

I sat and observed the class. There were, I think, three of us at the table. One was the daughter of a friend of my mother's. She would wind up my best and only friend throughout the three years that I would spend at the school. The other was a boy with glasses. "What are you looking at?," he asked once he caught me staring. I smiled broadly. "Are you close sighted or away sighted?", I asked in my usual breathless, hurried manner. "Do they magnify? Have you ever started a fire with them? Like you can with a magnifying glass? That would be NEAT!" He did not answer. Instead, he turned around in his seat to face the opposite direction. I continued to look around the classroom. It was very brightly lit and colorful. Also, there was brown carpeting. I like carpet.

I looked over at the calender and wondered why there were no numbers. Only the days were listed. I found it odd that Sunday began the week. Shouldn't it begin with Monday?? Saturday and Sunday are the weekEND. The week ends with them. I looked at the walls. Clifford, Barney, other characters that I was not familiar with. I found it amusing that my name was already written on a laminated balloon labeled "February" beneath a sign that read "Birthdays!!". And the date was right! How did she know?!

I spent nap time explaining why there was a "Huge, ENORMOUS HOLE" in our ozone layer (I was quoting something that I had seen on television) to the girl next to me until she fell asleep. Then I talked to myself until the teacher allowed me to get up and play a computer game which may have been Pajama Sam. During P.E., I walked around in a daze staring at the trees, singing songs filled with nonsensical lyrics, and playing with a broken lighter that I grabbed through the fence. The rest of the class was pretty uneventful. I lost most of my crayons loaning them out and by other means that I am still not certain of. I suppose I procrastinated a bit too long in regards to putting them back into the box. Perhaps I spent too much time arranging them from darkest to lightest.

I like to believe that, for the most part, I was a fairly normal child, albeit a few slight oddities and quirks that typically put off my peers. I had unusual interests for a girl. Dinosaurs, insects, black holes (which I knew absolutely nothing about), Lego's, Hot Wheels, and Timber Wolves to name a few. While I talked in seemingly endless stretches during class, I much preferred to be alone during "recess". I liked to build a barrier around myself out of the blocks that were in our room. They were huge. Monstrous, really. I felt safe when I was surrounded...until someone knocked them down. I found that hilarious and quickly rebuilt for the next "attack". I also liked to stand up my books to provide the same effect at my desk. I felt invisible. Invisible I knew, even then, was safe. I had a much more adverse reaction to that barrier being knocked over.

As the year progressed, it became increasingly difficult to get along with most of the children. Initially they liked me but some unknown event changed that very soon. My interests took a turn from "odd for a girl" to "strange in general". I was a little philosopher of sorts. They, my peers, were confused and possibly a bit frightened. "You know", I often began my statements, "one day everyone in this room will be dead. What do you think that feels like...being dead? What would it sound like?" This I said to no one in particular while my "group" colored and drew at our table. The watched me warily for the rest of the day and avoided me whenever possible. They told me to "just shut up" if I even so much as appeared to want to strike up another conversation. I think that may have been about the time that the chasing began.

THAT Kid - 1st Grade

The work was simple and I was bored. The highlight of each monotonous week was "music" class. There I got my first taste of "playing" an instrument, specifically the piano. Really, I just mimicked what our instructor did. It was all rote. He would play a few notes and I would eagerly echo them in exchange for praise. Pavlov's Dogs in Stereo. As repetitive as it was, I loved every moment. I only wished that he would let me show him what I could really do. As I sat there waiting for my tern I studied the 88 keys and told myself which keys would need to be whacked to get a song from Tom & Jerry that I loved. I never got the chance to play for longer than a moment before I was told off for "messing around". Soon after the "music" lessons began, our teacher acquired his own classroom and began giving us singing "lessons". This basically consisted of him popping a cassette into the tape player and letting us sing to gospel music. This encouraged me to, very briefly, make an attempt at learning the words to songs rather than just injecting my own.

My first grade class consisted of more or less the same group of people from the previous year, ergo I continued my existence as the social pariah right where I left off. I tried to compensate for my deficiencies by building a wall of vocabulary behind which I thought that I could hide. The tactic actually had the opposite effect. I stood out, painfully so, and was therefor ridiculed. I was THAT kid. The annoying one that spoke like a dictionary, answered far too many questions in succession, and - as a result - was too weird to function. I suppose every class must have one.

I tried to ignore the kids and befriend the teacher. In retrospect, that was not the best decision. I now realize that constantly spouting out facts by way of yelling "DID YOU KNOW THAT..." or asking relentless questions does not do much good in terms of making acquaintances let alone genuine friends. It repels them.

I did not ask typical questions. I suppose that they were a bit weird coming from a six year old, but I am not the best at judging what is considered "normal". While my classmates wanted to know why the sky was blue, I was pondering the mind and its experiences. I already knew why the sky was blue. I read my cousins science book at my aunts house to prove that I could. Scattered light...blue is favored...some guy named Ray Lee (Rayleigh). I wanted to know in my wildly un-modulated voice "HOW DOES TASTING WORK?"

"You're too loud", my teacher would reply. I ignored her. It was more important that I explained. Then she would not care that I was too loud because she would be too busy telling me everything there is to know about everything. That's what teachers were for. Anyway, that was my mentality at the time. "YES, BUT HOW DOES THAT WORK? DO WE ALL TASTE EVERYTHING THE SAME WAY ONLY SOME PEOPLE'S MINDS HAVE A THOUGHT THAT SAYS 'I HATE THIS' OR 'I LOVE THIS!'? DOES THE MIND TELL US WHAT TO LIKE? IS THAT HOW IT HAPPENS?" The teacher stares for a moment. "Go sit down", she finally says.

I continue, un-deterred. "OK, BUT WHAT'S THE MIND? HOW DOES THAT WORK? WHERE DOES IT COME FROM? WHAT HAPPENS TO IT WHEN WE DIE? DOES IT DIE TOO? WHERE IS IT LOCATED? WHERE YOUR BRAIN IS? IS IT WITH THE-" "Take a SEAT!!!", she screams. I probably stared with my mouth open. "...take a seat?",I asked quietly. "Yes!!" I look around. "TAKE WHICH SEAT WHERE?" She stands up and yells, "Go sit DOWN!" I stomp a foot on the floor. The other students are watching now. It's gotten very quiet. "BUT I HAVE ANOTHER QUESTION! ABOUT COLORS. DOES EVERYONE SEE THEM THE SAME WAY THAT I DO?" I make an attempt at using a lower voice. "I wonder....I want to know if....if I looked at yellow...what everyone calls yellow..." I get excited and forget to speak softly. "BUT IF I LOOK AT THAT AND SEE WHAT I KNOW IS YELLOW AND THEEEEN LOOK AT IT WITH ANOTHER PERSON'S EYES (wild hand gesture) BUT STILL MY MIND IS IT POSSIBLE THAT MAYBE I'LL SEE WHAT I CALL BLUE?" She is watching me with narrowed eyes.

"DO WE ALL ONLY THINK THAT WE CONCEIVE (perceive) THE SAME COLORS BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT WE HAVE TO CALL THEM AT SCHOOL? IS IT ONLY YELLOW BECAUSE SOMEONE TELLS US THAT IT IS? WHAT I MEAN IS COULD TWO PEOPLE TIMULTANIOUSLY (simultaneously) LOOK AT THE SAME COLOR AT THE SAME TIME BUT SEE TWO DIFFERENT COLORS BUT ONLY CALL IT THE SAME NAME BECAUSE THEY LEARNED TO CALL IT THAT? DO YOU THINK THAT HAPPENS? THAT MAKES ME WORRIED BECAUSE...WHAT IF IT REALLY DOES HAPPEN AND NO ONE REALLY KNOWS WHAT COLOR ANYTHING IS?!!!" My teacher gets up and walks out of the classroom. I sit down knowing just as little as I did before I asked with the added element of embarrassment because the entire class is staring at me.