SCHOOL DAYS: LIFE AT CES

Photo: Michelle, Nancy, and Skitch

Seventh Grade Graduation

THEN:

My fondest school years were spent at CES. My sister, Sandi, convinced me to give school more effort (though she fell short of the "give school your all" goal that she was hoping for) and I fell back into the "good girl" lifestyle, which was a considerably easier way to live, to be quite honest. Also, the atmosphere at CES was much improved and the attitudes were nearly perfect, at least in the grade I landed. Bullying was not completely dead there, but so many of the kids were quick to stick up for the underdogs. The halls were brightly lit and rules were much more strictly followed. We marched everywhere in a straight line and only dared to whisper under the most exciting circumstances. I thrived in the environment that was more structured. Life seemed more under control; I felt safer. The "rich kids" did hang out primarily with each other, but I don't remember ever hearing any of them say anything that was "snotty," or "snobby," or just downright rude to the middle class or poorer kids, and I can recall many times they were encouraging and kind. I was almost immediately befriended by, Stuart, one of the middle class students that was very kind and funny. He was mature for his age, but still knew how to relax and be a kid. He brought Stretch Armstrong to school on the day toys were allowed and his mom colored his hair green for Halloween. When I eventually confided in him that my family got food stamps (in the sixth grade, I believe) he said he would never have imagined it and what did it matter anyway? I was no longer "filthy" or "poor", and thus, the next three years were somewhat heavenly in a peer group sort of way.

On my first day at CES, I was trying to talk to Stuart, because we'd started a conversation in the classroom that was interrupted by the teacher when class started. One of our guy classmates, a fellow named Brent with curly dark hair and laughing eyes, became frustrated because I was distracting Stu from their game of touch of touch football. Brent smilingly pushed Stuart toward me and said, "F*&% her, Stuart!" I was shocked and appalled. I'd heard that word, of course, but only out of the mouths of tactless and rowdy high school boys. I had thought my classmates would be "youngsters" (three years younger than me.) They weren't even supposed to know such language! Stuart became immediately angry with Brent for using that word in front of a "lady". The dressing down he gave Brent endeared Stu to me for life. Brent was funny and half wild and I learned to like him pretty well despite this initial shock, but I was immediately thick as thieves with Stuart. 

Also, on that first day, I was befriended by the outgoing Shan and her quieter but very pretty friend Stephanie. Both were blond and radiant and probably from families that I would have considered well to do, but they treated me like a total peer. I was actually quite shocked when they started talking to me, and I was leery as well. I waited for one of them to decide I was beneath them, but they never did. On the playground, Shan raised my long blond hair off my chest and exclaimed, "Wow! Your boobs might even be bigger than Stephanie's. Look here, Steph!" And I, laughingly, tried to draw my hair out of her fingers and hide my boobs with it again. I'd grown accustomed to the idea that I was stuck with them, but I was still very uncomfortable when anyone pointed them out. While outside, they informally introduced me to a short, vivacious brunette named Nancy, and soon she and I were fast friends as well. Nancy looked exotic. Her eyes were cat-like and her complexion a flawless creamy color. It turned out that she lived right up the road from me and rode my bus. She wasn't a sissy girl (though she was much more in touch with her femininity than I was.) She had a sense of adventure and a great sense of humor. She quickly became my best school friend, and her friend Michelle and I clicked just as happily. Michelle was taller, her brunette hair was longer. She was slightly freckled and kind and quiet, but with a hidden and sometimes mischievous sense of humor. Soon we three were a trio and were often seen together. Shan and Stephanie remained dear friends, and so did many other groups of girls. Sometimes we hung with a quite, sweet girl named Tammy. Often we would be seen with Rita and Sherry, or April. Brenda and Rhonda were also part of the unofficial girl gang. Sometimes there was a whole gaggle of us, laughing and talking about boys or music. We had our own small groups but were part of a much larger group as well, one that included any female in my entire grade that cared to hang around us. Even the more well to do girls would join in some games, or contests that someone would start. We would share laughs and jokes now and then, and when push came to shove we were there for each other -- the whole classroom. I'd never experienced such a wide support group of friends and I loved it!

As far as guys were considered, crushes came and went, of course. I mooned over the dark and brooding Mike S. and the quiet-and-deep as-still-waters Warren, but did not tell either of them about my crush. I "dated" Smiling Brian and the tough yet kind Mike G. And I had lots of really awesome guy friends. Quite honestly, there was only one or two boys in the entire grade that I avoided to any degree. They leaned toward being bullies pretty frequently, and I did not want to get into any fights, so I steered clear of them. I truly loved most of the guys in my grade, and I would have loyally defended them if I'd overheard anyone say an unkind word about them. Still, a few boys stood out as guys I would have come to blows over: they were the above mentioned Stuart, a rather reckless freckled kid named Jimmy that treated me like a queen (and still does to this day) and a very kind and funny boy named Shane that was a grade above me (now that I'd failed repeatedly) but was not out of my radar as I'd learned that he was my type of person. Also on the list of "worth fighting over" were Kenneth, Scott O., David, Brian, Joey, Clint, and Luther. Many of these guys stood up for me as well. Stuart, on more than one occasion, took my part against the boys that tried now and then to bully me. So did Joey and Clint, who were both smaller than me but never let their size slow them down. (Joey grew to be enormously tall! lol) I was blessed with both girl and guy friends that I loved very much. 

Despite the great classmates, it was not all smooth sailing. Just a few days into the new school I was sent to the principal's office. I was refusing to shower at school. At LFE, we'd never been required to get naked in front of our classmates and I thought if this new school was going to ask that of me, it was just asking too much. I was modest to the extreme and never even allowed my own mother in the bathroom when I was naked. The principal, Mr. Baker, listened as I told him just that and then he spoke to let me know where he was coming from. Gym was hot and sweaty, classrooms were small, and some kids did not get proper hygiene at home. He felt he could not allow one kid, who would bathe at home, to be excused from gym because there were some that would not bathe at home. He thought about it a moment and then conceded that he was asking a lot of me, but that in the long run it was for the best for my class and my school. He said he was not opposed to giving me a "time of adjustment" since this idea had been sprung on me so unexpectedly. He said he would write me an excuse from showering for one week if I would agree to shower from then on. He pointed out that the showers did have curtains and that I could wrap in a towel going into and out of the shower. Only Mr. Dotson (my favorite teacher ever) had treated me so much like a human being with feelings that counted. I promised Mr. B that I would somehow work up the courage to shower in a week if he would give me that time to get used to the idea. He wrote the excuse and sent me back gym. In a week I tiptoed my bashful way to the showers wrapped in a big towel and tried to dress back into my street clothes under that towel when I got back to my locker. I soon noticed that no one really looked at anyone else. No one noticed my older body. No one remarked about the girl's that still had flat chests and no pubic hair. I grew more used to the locker room experience, though never comfortable with it. Still, I kept my deal with Mr. B. and thanked the Lord above for a principal that was so understanding. 

Most of my teachers were also decent folk, but I did not escape the bad experiences that sometimes peppered into my school career. I can say that, of the nine teachers I had in my classrooms and countless instructors for music, art, library, gym etc, only one of them truly hurt me. He decided I was "that kind of girl" and told me I needed a paddling once a week, whether I'd done anything wrong or not. It took me years to wonder if it was some sexual kick for him to spank a girl that had failed three times and was a bit more developed than most of the girls in class. But it did not take me long to realize that I preferred physical punishment over mental and emotional punishment, so I did not dare complain, though that teacher gave me 24 paddlings in one school year, usually three licks per spanking, and he died over the summer vacation. When we went back to school, the kids joked that I had killed him, which smarted my soul even though the words weren't meant to be cruel. I had also seen someone murdered over the summer, and was petrified I would be asked about that, so I grinned (quite literally) and considered these words the lesser of the expected evils. Still, I did not take any deep breaths until the joke died away. 

In the sixth grade I had a tough as nails teacher we'll just call Mrs. M. She was known for setting you on fire with a paddle, and it was rumored that she had shoved one boy up against the black board until his feet were no longer touching the floor. I never made it to her good side, but I managed to stay off her bad side most of the year. I think I got three paddlings from her, one of which sent me stumbling down several steps. Mrs. M. said, "What are you doing?! Get back up here! You still have two licks left!" But she was wise enough to point me up the stairs for the next two licks so I did not accidentally bound away again. 

Just as always, books were listed among my closest friends. I volunteered in the school library when I could and visited the town library often. Like many of my peers I read the wildly popular "Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret" by Judy Blume. Unlike most of them, I also read many other books by that author. I moved from the Ramona and the Ralph Mouse books to ones like "Fifteen" by Beverly Cleary. I also hovered gladly over: "Witch of the Cumberlands" by Mary Jo Stephens, The Witch Series by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor. (Yes, I've always been fascinated by witches. I blame it on Samantha from Bewitched and Sabrina from the Archie comics.) I discovered The Magic series and the Gryphon series by Andre Norton, Ursula K. Le Guin's "Tombs of Atuan", Mary Norton's "The Borrowers" series and "All the Children Were Sent Away" by Sheila Garrigue. I flew through "The Ups And Downs Of Jorie Jenkins" by Betty Bates and everything I could find by Jane Langton. I also buried myself in "The Day The World Went Away" by Anne E. Schraff, many of George McDonald's books, (especially the Princess books) and The Time series by Madeleine L'Engle. "The Year of Janie's Diary" by Donna Balcomb made me so proud to be someone that loved to learn! 

The last year of elementary school for us was seventh grade, and it was the best of three great years! We, as privileged "seniors," were allowed a couple of field trips, many soc hops, and other parties. They taught us square dancing which, despite how un-cool it might have seemed to many of my classmates, I loved! We had Seventh Grade Graduation to practice for and, too quickly, it was there and over. I wore a new and favorite purple dress that was way less "spectacular" than most of my friend's dresses, but in true kind form, no one pointed that out. And I loved that dress anyway. I thought it made me look mature and feminine. I felt like such a lady in it. The last day of school at CES it hit me that it was really over. I started crying and could not stop. I was ashamed of my tears, and it was near the end of the last day, so how much trouble could I get in if I just got up and left? I escaped and began making my way outside where my dad would soon be pulling up to take me home. The farther I walked the more difficult it was to take the next step and the harder I cried. I wished for a time machine so I could live the last three years over again, 24 paddlings in one year and all! I wanted to stop the clock and never have to walk out of that school. I felt like this was Riverdale High and I was Betty Cooper, but I was being kicked out of the comic book forever. Kenneth, one of the aforementioned "boys worth fighting over," found me sobbing in the hall. He was a tall and muscular guy with a heart of gold. He was a sweet, big teddy bear. He was confounded over my tears and kept telling me high school was going to be okay, that we'd all still be together, that not much was going to change. He told me high school would be fun! But I shook my head and sobbed, trying to tell him that I knew everything was going to change, that I was going to miss the clean wide halls and kids that (usually) obeyed rules. I told him I'd be with the LFE kids again and they didn't like me. That got his attention. He scoffed, "Not like you? How could anyone not like you? You're one of the nicest and prettiest girls in the whole world!" I was so touched by his kind words. I knew he could not relate to the life I'd been privy to at LFE. He put one arm around me and loaned me his strength so that I could walk out of my school, my haven, and away from the three happiest years of my school days. And just like that, my last day at CES was as memorable and special as the first had been, and as most of the ones in the middle had been. That school had strengthened me, buffered me, taught me, and entertained me. I knew I would always be grateful for the days I spent there and the people that made those days worthwhile. 

Photo by Skitch: Smiling Brian, Stuart, and Rita