Starting the end of this week and through the next, as we approach the longest night of the year, I thought we could all gather around the virtual fire each day and I would tell you all a story.
Well, not just a story. A Faux Real Story! These stories aren't fictional, but I've been told they are, nonetheless, somewhat entertaining. So, sip on some hot chocolate, reach your hands out to warm them by the fire... and enjoy.
--------------------------the scene of the crime? |
I still clearly remember my second trip to the elementary school library when I was in the first grade. I know that might seem odd that I would remember the second trip, but I think you'll get it once the story is completed. I only vaguely recall the first trip when the entire class of 25 students went to get a tour. The librarian (and our teacher) showed us the 'section' where the books 'for first graders' was located. The librarian probably waved her hands around at the rest of the shelves a bit as well. I am not sure. I suspect I was probably looking at a book while she did that...
My second trip to the school library was with the "advanced reading group" so we could select a book to read during "reading time" in class. One of the perks of being in this advanced group was that you could pick things from other shelves that were NOT in the first grader section.
Looking back, I realize the sections in the elementary library were an attempt to help guide us to things we were likely to enjoy and/or have success in reading. But, I guess I feel that if any kid saw a book in ANY part of the library that might have been of interest, they should have been allowed to check it out and at least thumb through it. Who knows where that might lead?
Learning?!? Oh no! We wouldn't want that, would we?
Yep, he doesn't look all that smart. Notice the cat has its back turned to him? |
In any event, our group was actually SENT to the library while the teacher stayed in our classroom with the rest of the students. We arrived and headed towards the section that was labeled "for advanced readers" or some such thing.
Then, for some reason that is still a mystery to me, the
librarian singled me out and said, "These books aren't for you, you need
to go over here." And, she steered me back to the first grade section. My
childhood memory tells me that she was pretty harsh about it, but I
really can't tell you for certain if that was just my perception that
has built up over time or if it was the actual tone she used.
Those who know me probably recognize that as a kid, I would not seek out
confrontation. I would normally keep my mouth shut and do one, or both, of two
things. If I was certain that the other person was very much in the
'wrong' I'd find a way to circumvent the situation when they were no longer involved. If I wasn't sure
what just happened, I would retreat to the point where things still made
sense.
In this case, I felt a combination of confusion, shame and embarrassment with a dash of 'but I've already read some of the books located in the advanced section, so there!'
thrown in. So, while my somewhat confused classmates moved on, I
turned around and went back to the classroom. I went back to my desk
and started doing whatever it was we were supposed to be doing on our
return.
This was the place where things last made sense to me - so
there I was.
I opted not to go back to the school library for
some time, though I would go to the city public library and happily
browse, read and check things out - from all sorts of sections at all
kinds of reading levels. I don't recall how word got to my
teacher that I had been stopped from looking at other books, but she did
go back up with me at some point and made a point to tell the
librarian that I was allowed to check books out from anyplace in the
library I wanted. I DO recall that I checked something out that was a
real stretch -
but I am sure I read it (as best I could) just to prove the point.
That story is probably one of the first of many where someone
either underestimated or overestimated what I was capable of doing. I
am sure that everyone has some of these in their own life-story too.
But, I re-tell myself this particular story to remind me of a two things:
First, it doesn't take much to hurt someone - and there doesn't have to
be intent.
I still recall feeling the burning shame and the beginnings of doubt putting cracks in my self-confidence. Maybe I really wasn't all that smart after all? Did I look stupid? An adult clearly thought so, so maybe I was.
Thankfully, I had plenty of additional support from family, my teacher, and others. And I started out with enough of my own self-confidence to heal up rapidly. I circumvented the limited access problem by going to a 'friendlier' library, so things were mostly fine after the initial event as far as I was concerned.
This story reminds me that not everyone has enough of a support system or sufficient self-worth to weather things that don't seem so big to the rest of us. That's why I try to carefully consider what I say. It is why I push myself to apologize when I err in what I say. It gives me a good reason to work on giving specific and direct praise that tells a person exactly what I like about what they are doing.
And,
perhaps it is why I often just don't say anything!
Second, I tell this story to remind myself that I am not as smart as
I might think I am - but I am also not as stupid as I think I am
either.
There is such as thing a healthy self-doubt and
self-criticism. But, this must be balanced by healthy doses of
confidence and self-assurance. Let's just say that I know enough to know that I don't know
enough - but I will do my best with what I've got.
Maybe I should go to the library and check out a book on the subject.
Maybe it's in the first-grade section.
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