Broken Pencils

A/N :

I was just musing about something else, when all the sudden, I inevitably went spiraling down into a rabbit hole, where nothing else exist but thought and memories.

Just as a heads-up, I may have used a bit of profanity in writing this, so if those words offend your modern sensibilities, I do apologize. But I needed them to accurately convey my sentiments.

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Back when I was in 2nd grade, I had this phase when I was feeling some major separation anxiety from my parents. So I’d be crying in class out of the blue. I don’t know why, because I’d been coming to school with no such problems since kindergarten. But then all of sudden, that happened.

And so I came up to the teacher, hoping for some comfort- you know, to be consoled by an adult. The first time, she attended nicely to me. But then I came to realize, she was just being a hypocrite then...

Because when I came up to her again the next time on another day, she didn’t just brush me off...she actually got angry at me for ‘bothering’ her. And sure, she was in the middle of her lunch, but still. To lash out at me like that- it was practically like kicking me when I’m down. Making me feel like garbage.

...And I was eight years old.

After that, I never came up to her again. I never cried in class again either. All my separation anxiety issues flew out the window, because they were all replaced by sheer and utter anger. Against that b*tch teacher.

But see, that wasn’t even all of it.

Days later, I was trying to borrow a pencil from a seat mate, when very reluctantly, and with so much hesitation, she revealed something awful to me in confidence. She said that good-for-nothing teacher actually instructed her not to talk to me anymore. Apparently, she’s told other students — I never knew how many — to ignore me completely. As if I wasn’t there.

F***ing bitch. It was one thing to do the ignoring yourself; but to make other people — and children, at that — to ignore another child...that, I think, is just some new level of evil.

At least that classmate had the decency to come clean to me about what she’s been ‘made’ to do. If she hasn’t, I’d have been forever puzzled as to why I was just suddenly being ‘shunned’ by my peers. Like being bullied. Only, the worst part is, it was initiated by the adult who’s supposed to look after you in school.

Things like that- they tend to break you. Chipping away at your spirit. Little things. Which, at first, might seem trivial. Like a pencil breaking.

(Just went to a really dark place there for a moment. Huh. ...I need a candle.)

As you can probably imagine, I only got even more enraged by that...revelation. That discovery.

Imagine a child, so filled with rage against an adult, that she didn’t have the emotional capacity to feel anxious anymore. That was me. After what she did.

So I stopped crying. Just like she wanted. But for different reasons. Sure, maybe it did make me get over my separation anxieties. But even then, I knew it was for the wrong reasons.

Then one day, she ‘complimented’ me for not crying in class anymore. But it was probably more like complimenting herself, giving herself what she must have thought was a ‘well-deserved’ pat on the back for ‘handling’ the situation the way she did. She must’ve thought it was a good call to turn me away that time, and order the rest of the class to ignore my existence.

How horribly misguided.

Now just so we’re clear, and for the record, what she did wasn’t ‘tough love’ at all or anything. There was absolutely NO love in what she did whatsoever. That was just pure cruelty. Merciless, was all it ever was.

Which is why when I became a teacher myself — albeit for only a brief period of time — I resolved NEVER to do something like that to any of my students. And I’ve had some who were such big crybabies, mind you. Some were loud, some cry in a corner quietly, though endlessly. Most were inconsolable. I might feel annoyed or irritated by that, sure. But I would never show it to them, not to their faces. And what, shatter their self-esteem right there and then at that tender age? No. Then I’m no better than that...demon teacher I had.

If the situation calls for it, I might leave a student be. Let them cry their little hearts out for as long as they need...or want. And I’d just stay the hell away. Especially if they refuse to be consoled anyway. I know better than to hang around. That is, when nothing you say ever gets through, because the more you talk, the harder and louder they cry. As if competing with your voice. Or just plain shutting you up. In which case, fine. I’d leave them alone. ‘Ignore’ them, if you will. But only because that’s what they’re asking for : some ‘alone’ time. ‘Crying alone’ time. Then so be it.

After all, don’t we all need that at some point? Even as adults.

However...

Once they’re ready to come to me, I will NOT turn them away. Nor will I ever tell them to get lost because they’re bothering me. Even if I’m in the middle of a meal. Once they approach me of their own accord, making the effort of their own volition — most likely seeking comfort or simply needing something trivial — then I’ll attend to their needs, as a decent human being should. More specifically, as a decent educator should treat a student.

Because if I ever treat my students the way that useless, piece of sh*t — who dared call herself a teacher — treated me back when I was a child...then I had no right calling myself an educator.

(Anyhow, just thoughts.)