Teenager In Training ....

The last thing I remember Mrs. Hettich, my 6th grade teacher, telling me about going on to Junior High School was "be careful, you'll be meeting kids from other schools and bigger kids sometimes do bad things and want you to join in".  One thing she was referring to was kids bringing knives to school.  That scared the tar out of me!   I was completely paralyzed when I got to school the first day of 7th grade.   Had to have a locker in a strange hallway.  Had to change classrooms for every single class!  What is this crazy life here?  Mrs. Hettich was also referring to kids smoking and doing drugs.   Now little did she know that I had already tried smoking A cigarette before.  Coughed my lungs out, but had to do it, all the other girls were trying it out too.  Peer pressure.  Ah, that nasty thing that popped itself up more times than I can count on my two hands during my years in school.

I really was scared of this different type of school.  In elementary school, I only had to change classes for math class.  Seems the teachers I had didn't teach the higher level math class I needed, so I had to go to another teacher's class to learn math.  I was happy knowing that was the reason, and comfortable to do so, but little did I know in Junior and Senior high I would have to change classes all the time. Everyday. For every class I took.   And to make matters more confusing, my locker was never by any of my classes.  So I had to learn quickly to take enough books for back-to-back classes if I didn't think I had time to go to my locker and exchange books and be on time to the next class.  Well, thanks be to God, I was a fast learner on that one!!

In 7th grade I had the most wonderful English teacher, Mrs. Rice.  One of the first black teachers I had ever had in my educational career.  That didn't really mean anything THEN, I wasn't raised to be racist or anything.  It did mean something later when I realized that there just weren't many black teachers or students in my school district.   I never had to deal with prejudice based on skin color until I got older and got a job.  Mrs. Rice taught me a lot of vocabulary words over the school year.  I loved grammar and spelling and learning big people words.  I had art class with Mrs. Casey.  Funny black lady!  She inspired me to be creative.  I think I had more fun in her class, because it was more interactive and there were always more interesting people in the art classes I took than in any others.   I also loved math and science. And I REALLY loved seeing a lot of cute boys.  LOL

"Looking at" boys was about it for my dating life in school.  However I did have a crush sort of on a boy that went to another school.  His name was Dale.  I was so darn timid around new people, especially boys, I just didn't know what to do.  If I ever kissed him, I don't remember it.  All I know is that one of my girl friends ended up leading him on and I got jealous and didn't want to get involved with boys again for a long time.  Too complicated and too much competition, so to speak.  I didn't like all the feelings that came up when dealing with pining for a boy and then wanting to get their attention.  It made me too anxious and I really hated that feeling.  

I was just still getting used to the life as the oldest child in my family, and the first out of elementary school.  Had to ride the bus to school and that was fine.  But sometimes I walked to school in the morning and back home at the end of the day. I got to walk past my former elementary school as it was just next door and down the hill. 

8th grade was much better.  I made several girl friends and we all ended up hanging together as much as possible.  Some of us worked in the school library together and eventually we started doing the birthday slumber party gig.  My bestest friend at that time was Robin.  She and I and several other girls that shared classes together would take turns inviting the whole crew to our homes for our birthdays and stay up all night doing silly stuff like seances and telling spooky stories.  I never could tell a story at those things.  I rather loved to listen to the more creative girls tell theirs.  I could never sleep at these functions either. You were advised to NOT be the first to nod off, else you'd end up with shaving cream in your hand and someone to scare you awake only to get that stuff all over your self.  We were ornery but we loved ever minute of it!  

Robin moved away in our Freshman year and I wrote to her several times and she wrote back and then the letters stopped coming along the way and I lost track of her.  I also had a Pen Pal (precursor to Facebook online friends) from Zimbabwe Africa.  We were the same age and she was Catholic just like me!  We'd write letters of course, but also sent each other things that we made like jewelry or something we thought the other would like.   I probably wrote to her for a couple years and then the letters stopped coming from her.  I was pretty lonely after that for a while.  I had the hardest time because every year I made one or two good friends, and I swear they all moved away after the school year was over.  It was like being abandoned over and over, every year.  

Then that lovely event all girls go through in their early teenage years hit me.   That monthly visitor.   Yuck!  8th grade was literally a pain for me when all that happened.  I was not ready for that, and it interrupted many classes.  But somewhere in the back of my mind I knew all the other girls were dealing with this visitor too.  What I didn't know was what was ahead for me in later years with regard to "the visitor". 

And that year I also had been diagnosed with Scoliosis while in my Gym class when the school nurse went around and checked all the 8th graders for this skeletal deformity.  I had it and it was pronounced enough that eventually I got referred to see the Doctor that recommended kids get checked in school.  I had to get my back X-rayed every 3 to 6 months.  He kept saying I had an 18-degree curve and that was borderline for having to wear a back brace.  Well, golly, when I heard that I freaked.  "I cannot wear a brace!   The kids will make fun of me, more than they already do!"  Thank God in Heaven, I didn't have to go through all that humiliation.  The deal was if I had to wear one, I would have had to wear it for at least 2 years.  

Thinking back upon all this, I realize I was pretty lucky. My Mom was not very nurturing in emotion and asking how my day was or anything like that.  She did take me to all the doctor and dentist appointments I needed to go to and that would last well until high school.  I had more years to come in dealing with health issues as a teenager.  She did help me with that.   All the while providing for all 5 of us, as my Dad was not working.  I was more blessed than I gave credit for at the time.  I apologize now for not acknowledging it then.  I was so scared of life, and selfish, and jealous of my sister and her group of friends, that I didn't pay attention to my own blessings, or family's blessings.  The fact that many of Mom and Dad's siblings helped up out financially or otherwise so we didn't go without.  Truly I was naive as all get out.  But over time I would learn that what I thought I knew wasn't all that was going on around me. 

.....when we first start changing from child to adolescent, we experience numerous changes, physically, emotionally, and cognitively.  It's during this time we start to think we know it all, but really we have only just begun to really understand what is going on.   More to come....

 

Mom's Family ....

Okay, so I misspoke in a prior post.  Mom was one of 10 kids.  She had 3 older sisters, and 6 brothers.  I couldn't imagine having that big of a family...   Not sure if they all were living in the house at the same time, because of the age difference of the oldest and the youngest, both boys, but even so, many had to share the same bed.   I was complaining in an earlier post about sharing a bed with my sister, that was sharing with one other person.  I cannot imagine sharing a single bed of any size with 2 or 3 others.

Having never met my Grandpa (Frank), I have not much to say on him.  I don't recall many stories about him, I was after all one of the youngest of his grand kids.  I think there were several of us he never met because he died in the 1956, kind of right in the middle when all his brood were off having or adding to their own families.  I just know he and some of his sons worked at building houses. 

After Grandpa died, three of Mom's brothers moved their families down to the Baton Rouge area to build homes.  I'm guessing they found a market where new homes were needed down South.  I got to meet all my LA cousins when I was 5 years old.   Mom and Dad got plane tickets and we all headed down there to visit for a few days.  I don't recall the flight to and from Baton Rouge.  I only have a few memories at all.  My Aunt Dot (married to Uncle Lambert) had a Chihuahua dog that barked and barked and scared me senseless.  We slept in a room, and it seemed like we slept on the floor in sleeping bags under a pool table.  Don't know why, just remember looking up at the underside of a table.  And I remember Aunt Mary Jo (married to Uncle Chip) scaling the catfish that some of the Uncles caught and I high tailed out of the kitchen when I saw all the blood in the sink. 

I was most fond of my Aunt Mary.   She had the Southern accent I loved, and she was the only relative I remember that gave hugs and kisses.  I loved that!!!   She'd call all the kids "sugar" when she answered their questions.  Mary was married to Mom's brother Maurice.  They were married nearly 50 years when she got melanoma and died from complications of the treatment while in the hospital.   Thankfully Brian and I had decided to go visit my relatives in LA the Summer before.  We only got to see them, and I truly believe that God worked that out just the way want He intended.  I got to see LA as an adult and have even more good memories of my Aunt Mary.  Sweet lady for sure!

Now Mom had 3 other brothers that never moved out of the metro area.   One was my Godfather Cyril, he was married twice, he lost his first wife Hazel when I was eight.  I remember his 2nd wife more, Aunt Marie.  Then there was Uncle Hubert (married to Aunt Margie).  He passed away the year my Dad was diagnosed with Bipolar disease.  Not sure what took his life, but Mom's family is plagued all around with heart disease and blood clotting issues.   Cyril had a few kids, Hubert had a huge brood like his parents.  And then there is my Uncle Francis.  He's the only bachelor, and still alive and kicking...though not like he used to do when he was in a Square Dance club many moons ago.  He takes care of driving his 2 widowed sisters (my Mom and my Aunt Alberta). 

Mom lost one sister a couple years ago, her name was Aunt Marcella.  Then there is Aunt Rosalie, she just celebrated 70 years of marriage to her loving husband, my Uncle Andy.  And Aunt Alberta, who goes by Berti, she lost her husband Alfred way back when I was a kid.   Uncle Francis drives his sisters to family events and to play cards wherever they are doing so.  Aunt Berti is 95 years old and doesn't get out much anymore.   Back in the day, Uncle Francis had everyone to his house, barbecue, chatter and card games, and LAUGHTER, that's all you would hear at his place all day long.  Kids roaming in and out of the rooms and outside.  We always had fun on that side of the family. 

And you know who nurtured this happy family and laughter and ritual of card games?   My lovely Grandma.   I have lots of memories of her.  She taught us 3 kids how to play simple card games, and all the Aunts and some of the Uncles and few of the cousins would love to sit at the big kitchen table and play card games that went quick and elicited laughter and fun times.   Grandma was a good cook, my sister and I found out one Easter when we stayed with her, and woke to smells of bacon and eggs, and every morning listening to the singing of "The Lord's Prayer" on the local am station.   Yes we had fun with Grandma and loved visiting her.   In 1973 when the big rivers all flooded, Grandma came and stayed with us.  That was fun!   The following year, when I was only 7, Grandma died after having a severe stroke, blood clots in her legs that had her lose a leg and then her life.  Hers was the first funeral I ever remember, and the first time I ever saw my Mother cry. 

  ....  family is the ever evolving group of people that give rise to memories and gives life meaning.

 

My Grandma and Grandpa Saale on their wedding day Sept. 14, 1915