Today I was woken up by a memory

It’s strange how trauma catches up with you. From all my childhood when I was scared and alone surrounded by people, when I think I forgot and forgave almost everything, this particular memory crept up on me.

I was in sixth or seventh grade, so maybe I was 10 years old. I was bad at math so my brother took me to a math teacher to do some meditations. He also did some meditations with her for his final exams of high school. He knew she was a good teacher so he thought it will be good for me.

This math teacher was a young woman, maybe in her 30s, I don’t remember her face, maybe because I didn’t look much at her face, I don’t even remember her name, I only remember her nice long nails, She had such pretty small hands with Polygel nails.

I don’t remember her face because I was too afraid of her to look her in the eyes. I only remember her nails because she got so angry one time when I didn’t understand a math exercise and I got it wrong that she sliced up in half my note book with her red pen. Now that’s a person with some angry issues. I still have a vivid image in my head with her nice thin fingers almost ripping out my pages.

I remember, as I continued to go to her and I continued writing in that note book, going back at the pages that she almost tore off with her anger. Every time I looked at those pages the fear came back to me, I’m pretty sure I started crying right in front of her at that time, and I just swallowed my tears and tried to focus on my math problems so I don’t make her angry again. She was shaking with anger.

Another thing I remember was that her mom was there and she brought her hot tea every time, but never once was I asked, or any other kids that was there with me, if we wanted a glass of water, or even better, some hot tea. A hot cup of tea with have been very good with those tears.

Now we learn about all those different methods of teaching children, about patience, about how teaches with anger issues are fired so they won’t traumatize our children anymore. How resentful I felt this morning when I remembered this, even if now I realize she probably just had some traumas of her own, she just had to work them out. I’m curious if she worked out her anger issue, if she is still teaching, if she has children of her own now. I hope she is not as angry anymore.

As I was lying in my bed this morning I fantasized I would rise up from my chair in that tiny dark room, pick up my note book, and tell her “how dare you scream at me when I don’t understand what you teach? How dare you be so mean to the kids that pay you to make them understand things they don’t understand in school?” and leave without paying her.

Now I’m 27 years old, I have the life of my dreams, I’m surrounded with people I love and who love me, far away from home. Wise enough not to punish my dogs or spouse when I get angry.

Still, I’m proud of myself for choosing not to go back to that lady next year.

Now I have long pretty nails, but not the anger issues.