Oh excellent! That beats all the secret lovers and petty crimes confessed at postsecret, by a mile.
I suspect there are quite a few passionate teachers who start from that kind of childhood experience. (Here's mine: my kindergarten teacher assured me that my parents had ruined my life by letting me learn to read before K. I went home and stood on my head, hoping that would make me forget--and didn't dare tell my mom about that conversation until five years later. The same teacher tried to make me right-handed, she moved my marker from hand to hand every chance she got. This was in 1972. For years after, I wouldn't let teachers see what I knew, just in case it would get me in trouble again.)
Penny, traumatic for you, but an excellent story! My Kindergarten teacher was wonderful when she learned I could already read. She just told my parents to get the kid something new to do so I wouldn't become bored and troublesome. It was piano lessons, which I did for ten years.
Now see, I was "hopeless" at piano lessons, and hated them, but I'm still grateful for them--it was my piano teacher who first realized that I needed glasses. (And she played the organ at my wedding, many years later.)
I think of the Kindergarten incident a lot now that I have a six-year-old daughter who's also left-handed and an early reader. What little comments will stick in her memory the way Miss Murray's did for me? The way the Sylvan tutor's did for the PostSecret writer?
I do have a memory from age six that sticks with me. A babysitter told me I was a horrible singer. I really think those sorts of statements to young minds are evil. True, I have never sung well, but I was always sure I couldn't.
5 comments:
Oh excellent! That beats all the secret lovers and petty crimes confessed at postsecret, by a mile.
I suspect there are quite a few passionate teachers who start from that kind of childhood experience. (Here's mine: my kindergarten teacher assured me that my parents had ruined my life by letting me learn to read before K. I went home and stood on my head, hoping that would make me forget--and didn't dare tell my mom about that conversation until five years later. The same teacher tried to make me right-handed, she moved my marker from hand to hand every chance she got. This was in 1972. For years after, I wouldn't let teachers see what I knew, just in case it would get me in trouble again.)
I think that's a fabulous secret! I wish there were more like it, but also that the writer didn't feel the need to make it a secret.
Penny, traumatic for you, but an excellent story! My Kindergarten teacher was wonderful when she learned I could already read. She just told my parents to get the kid something new to do so I wouldn't become bored and troublesome. It was piano lessons, which I did for ten years.
Now see, I was "hopeless" at piano lessons, and hated them, but I'm still grateful for them--it was my piano teacher who first realized that I needed glasses. (And she played the organ at my wedding, many years later.)
I think of the Kindergarten incident a lot now that I have a six-year-old daughter who's also left-handed and an early reader. What little comments will stick in her memory the way Miss Murray's did for me? The way the Sylvan tutor's did for the PostSecret writer?
I do have a memory from age six that sticks with me. A babysitter told me I was a horrible singer. I really think those sorts of statements to young minds are evil. True, I have never sung well, but I was always sure I couldn't.
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