Disclaimer: THAT time of the month! Sappiness ensues.
I've been caught in a sea of nostalgia these last few weeks. Mostly because I've suddenly been immersed in a literature that uses childhood as a basis for what many call pathology, but what I call strength and resiliency.
It got me thinking of my own childhood traumas, loves, hates, and fascinations. Westminster Elem. was witness to my transformation from a nose-picking pre-schooler to a boy crazy 6th grader.
I'll never forget any of my teachers from Westminster. While some were definitely *nicer* than others, each contributed to my growth and evolution. Here you go, teachers of Westminster. My Yelp 100th is dedicated to you!
Memories:
Pre-K: Lizzy - I'll always remember you in your cut off jean shorts, tie-dye shirts and rollerskates. It would be until I reached middle school that I'd realized that you were my pre-k teacher and not a cool teenager who let us do fun "stuff." I'll never forget how excited you were when 4 months into the year; I spoke my first words in class, "my mommy had a baby." You were there on the very first "best day of my life."
Kindergarten: Mrs. Brown. Most things are a blur about this grade. I do, however, remember getting accidentally hit in the nose with those metal skates. This would be the inception to my accident-prone life.
1st Grade: "Oh my god, am I really going to be able to count to 100!?!?" Dear Ms. Soo, at that time it seemed as though it would be an insurmountable task. Patiently, you'd sit there with that long stick, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5..." no longer would I finish off with "dog, cat, car, mom, sister, tortilla, 5, 9, fire." You gave me the gift of counting and would you believe that in college, Advanced Statistics was one of my favorite classes?"
2nd Grade: Mrs. Harris! Good lord -- witches are real. I used to wonder why you were so mean. I never peed on myself (in class) or hit other kids in class. You were a skank and you didn't need to be.
3rd Grade: Mrs. Gurtman - You were a wonderful teacher. I remember being really upset when you pulled a handful of us aside and told us that we'd be going to the gifted class the following year. I was upset because I wanted to go with all my other friends. I almost cried, but you assured me I'd be fine. I didn't entirely believe you until I met Dr. Slaton.
4th Grade: Dr. Slaton - another wonderful and caring teacher. You are the epitome of what an educator should be like. My mother still remembers that parent conference where you told her that I was a bright child with a big heart. You took a polaroid picture of us that day. It is one of the only pictures I have from that time. I think you knew this.
5th Grade: While I'd love to call you a 'poor excuse for a human being' I won't. I've carried with me painful memories from my experience in your "accelerated" academic class. It was 5th grade and we didn't *have to* learn logic or calculus. You called those that didn't learn at the capacity you expected, "flunkies," and you'd publicly humiliate them and their test scores. Your class taught me about pain. It was the year of your husband's death, my childhood friend Blanca's death, Magic Johnson's HIV positive test results and the L.A. riots (a death attempt on South Central by its own residents). As much as I'd love to hate you for berating young children, who really just wanted to be children, I'll only feel sorry for you. Childhood traumas work in mysterious ways. I'm entering an exceptionally empathetic professional field, most of my undergraduate research was on HIV, and I have committed myself to bringing out and showcasing the impeccable capacities for strength and resiliency of South Central residents.
6th Grade: Ms. W. & Dr. Asuquo - genuine laughs and smiles were had in your classes. Not only would I re-learn sex ed through you, but I'd giggle in excitement when I'd catch a glimpse of my *boyfriend*, yet ignore him when he came close. Oh the joys of childhood dating. I'd start wearing training bras, learn how to put a maxi-pad on and say no to drugs and boys. I'd begin to first develop physically, and then emotionally.
Mr. Robbins, School counselor - You came into my class one morning and asked us what we'd received for xmas. As I listened to all the nice and expensive gifts everyone had received, I thought about lying about the gifts I'd received. We never celebrated xmas bc of my mom's religion. However, my aunt did give me socks. When I said "socks" you asked me what color. I said they were yellow with white lace. You thought that was the coolest gift ever. I smiled and wore them to school the next day.
You have all impacted my life. Sometimes when I try to operationalize success -money, homes and happiness (in that order) find their way into the equation. Tonight, the definition of success is to positively impact ONE individual. Faculty of Westminster-- you have succeeded in my eyes. read more