School
The Early Years
So there I was, half way through my first year of school. While still hearing comments about my four eyes. Everyone, except me, seemed to have forgotten someone calling me Darla Silvereyes. I still got picked on a lot by many of my classmates, but I tried to mostly ignore them. For the most part, I was just another kid in class. Except I was always in trouble with the teacher.
I rarely had my homework done for class. My hand writing skills were terrible so a lot of the work I did was marked wrong even if I had the correct answer. And even though I now had my spiffy new glasses, with my fellow classmates still making fun of me, my reading skills were still a little behind for a while. Plus I was very shy and quiet, so when I did read in class, the teacher always yelled "Speak up Darla so we can hear you." I also had some problems with my throat. Scar tissue and growths caused pain if I talked too loud or too long, and caused my voice to be hoarse. And when I did try to speak louder, my poor speach frequently resulted in snickering around the room. I also found out later that I had a bad case of dyslexia. That always made my reading a fun adventure, for the rest of the class.
I made it through first grade, and my grades almost did too. At least I wasn't kept back to repeat first grade. Next came second grade. Same thing, except I missed a lot of school. I was out sick a lot. I had lots of nice adventures with Chicken Pox, and Flu, and a friend we all know, the Rhino Virus (the common cold). When I got sick, I was usually very sick, much worse then most others. The problems I had with my throat resulted in a lot of secondary infections, so that a simple cold for others could easily result in a hospital visit for me. I also had a lot of ear infections, which didn't do my bad hearing any good. Yes, my hearing, I'll get to that soon.
At school there were the daily adventures in recess. Usually we were sent out to the playground to play on the swings, slides, and other implements of embarrassment. Not sure how it happened, but I fell off or tripped over everything. Landing face first, and getting covered with dirt head to toe was always a fun adventure. Usually I was quite capable of fully embarrassing myself, however, on some occasions I had some loving help landing face first from my dear friends. I got to know the school nurse well that year. As always, I was a regular target for name calling. Dumb Darla. Ditsy Darla. Dopey Darla. One of the endearing names I earned that year was Darla Dingbat. I didn't know what a dingbat was, but I knew it wasn't something nice. My grades were still extremely un-noteworthy. Mom was getting to know the teacher well as they discussed my less than stellar performance. And mom hated getting to know the teachers and frequently let me know how much she hated it.
Third grade was again pretty much the same. Sorry if my suffering is starting to sound repetitive to you, but misery is seldom fun. The one big difference was that the summer before third grade I started reading some books I actually liked. There was The BFG (Big Friendly Giant in case you never heard of it), Half Magic, and a few others. Then I picked up my sisters copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone. I really wanted a magic wand with a nice collection of hexes to share with my classmates and teachers. Unfortunately, the closest I had was a good fist, which got a bit of a workout that year. Well, the magical Harry got me hooked on books. So my excuse for bad grades in third grade, which I will still defend, is that I was too busy reading to be bothered with mundane school work. I always had a book with me. I was always reading. Teachers would take books away from me saying, "No hiding behind a book pretending to read, get some real work done." The problem with that was that even without reading a book I still had stories floating around in my head. I was told it was day dreaming, and to stop it and join the real world. But if it was day dreaming, it was a whole lot better than the real world, so a lot of what I was told kinda missed it's target, meaning I ignored it. My increasingly bad hearing didn't help. I guess those ear infections, and other bouts of illness were taking their toll. No one knew my hearing was bad, not even me. But I was missing a lot of what was being said, leading to more problems in school, and of course more bullying.
One thing I learned early on was that it was sometimes better to be a reed then a tree. I read some of Aesop's Fables, including the following one:
| AESOP'S FABLES The Tree and the Reed |
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"Well, little one," said a Tree to a Reed that was growing at |
I was tired of being picked on and bullied by my "friends" and teachers. So I decided to be a reed. Or at least look like a reed as much as possible. I was already skinny as a reed, so I guess acting like a reed was right up my alley.
I would do whatever I was told, or at least look like I was doing as I was told, and try to be as invisible as possible so I would be left alone.
There were a few incidents, mostly before I read "The Tree and the Reed," that caused some problems. I was picked on a lot, bullied a lot. And on a few occasions I reacted badly. Well, I would call it reacting badly now; at the time I was just reacting because I was in pain, emotional as well as physical. I was bigger, stronger, and faster than everyone in my class back in my early days in school. More than every once in a while, after being bullied beyond my ability to ignore, I would lash out. I left a quite a few bloody noses in my dust. I found out that parents, and teachers, really didn't like that crazy girl beating up their precious little bullies. I was pretty sure I was the victim. But being quiet, never complaining, and never tattling on others, I took my punishment for defending myself in silence.
Once I was called Pinball Wizard. I knew what a wizard was, but I never heard of a Pinball Wizard before. So I ignored the name callers, which just resulted in more Pinball Wizard cat calls. So that night I did some research on the internet. Even in third grade I was pretty decent at using a PC, at the age of eight I considered myself a PC expert. So I googled Pinball Wizard. When I found out what a Pinball Wizard was, I was a bit shocked at first. I was the "deaf, dumb and blind kid." After getting over the shock, in about a second and a half, I was mad, and then very quickly sad. And I cried. I was beginning to realize how bad my hearing was, but I wasn't deaf. Without my glasses, I was pretty close to blind, but with them my vision was probably better than most. And I knew I wasn't dumb!!! What I was was mad. So next day, the first time I heard Pinball Wizard, there was another bloody nose squirming on the ground. Mom had to come to school and take me home, and I got 3 days at home with no bullies. I didn't hit anyone after that at school, I waited until after school, and if anyone bullied me on the way home, bloody nose time.
Once, after beating up one nice bully, he got a couple friends on a weekend and cornered me at a neighborhood play ground. No one else was around. It was a typical bad day at home with dad, so I just wanted to be alone. They came up, calling me lots on nice nasty names. So I started leaving the playground. Two of them grabbed my arms, and the one I had beaten up tried to hit me. Well, I lost it. I don't remember exactly what happened, but there were three bloody bullies on the ground, and I had only some slight bruises on my arms, and my fists were kinda sore. I think some good kicking was also involved. I didn't get in trouble for that. I guess the three boys were too embarrassed to tattle on me; after all three boys were beat up by a girl. By the end of third grade bullies started leaving me alone. Maybe after a few bloody noses they learned their lessons, or maybe they were just afraid of the crazy dumb girl. Mostly, after reading "The Tree and the Reed," I think it was because I was ignoring them better. It didn't hurt my fists as much either.
By the end of third grade, I was getting pretty good at being a reed. Instead of standing up to them and fighting, I just let the nastiness blow past me. Just weathering the storm, ignoring the world, and being likewise ignored in return.
The summer after third grade, I told mom about my bad hearing. She took me to the doctor. He made me take a test in this big booth. I was given a wire with a little button at the end, and was told to push the button when I heard the beep. I heard some beeps, I pushed the button a few times as I heard each beep. When the test was done, mom and the doctor had a long talk without me. As usually, it was about me and I was being left out, again. In the next few weeks, I had some more hearing tests, and got a nice set of BTE, that's behind the ear hearing aids. They helped a lot, I could understand what people were saying better, but I still missed a lot. Unless I was actually looking at the talkers face. If I could see the person, I was pretty good at telling what they said. Not sure it was lip reading, more like a combination of hearing some, reading lips some, but also reading the whole person some. Even if someone was across the room, to far away for anyone to hear, I was pretty goods at knowing what was being said. That helped me learn a lot of secrets as time went on.
My hearing loss was sensorineural, bi-lateral, probably existed from birth, was getting progressively worse especially with the ear infections I experienced when younger, not reversible medically or surgically, was mild to severe in several frequency ranges, and was partially correctable with hearing aids. As I got older, the hearing loss did not seem to progress any further, but I still visit the doctor every six months. I hope to be able to use ITE (in the ear) hearing aids soon, so they don't look as bad. I keep my hair over my ears so people don't see my hearing aids.
I still wasn't good at watching TV, I missed a lot of what was said. Even with Closed Caption on, I didn't like TV. And going to movies was even worse. Some of the noise was too loud and hurt my ears, and I still couldn't hear enough to enjoy the movie. Of course I made an exception for Harry Potter movies, and later for the The Lord of the Rings. Music still doesn't sound like something worth listening to.
As I got older, and my hearing aids got better, and I was better at taking hearing tests, I was able to hear better. And t-coil, blue tooth, and some nice noise canceling head sets helped me with phones, TV and movies, but I still missed some of what others took for granted.
Through 8th Grade
Fourth grade was sort of a turning point. Instead of ignoring the teachers as I had in the past, I actually tried to learn. I still didn't get much homework done, and got into lots of trouble for it. But I got good grades in all the tests.
Early in the year, after the first math test of the year, the teacher asked me to see her at the end of the day before going home. I had this teacher last year and we knew each other well, or should I say she thought she knew me well. When I went to the teachers desk after classes, she asked me how I cheated on her math test. Being confused by the question, not even sure I heard it correctly since I didn't cheat, I just stood there. She whipped the test paper off her desk, waved it in front of me, and asked, "How did you get all of these answers?" I looked at the paper, and saw the "100" on it, meaning all the answers were correct. I answered the teacher, "From the questions." The look on her face was frightening for little me, the eyes looked like they were about to smash me to little pieces, so I just stood there trying my very best reed imitation. For some reason, she just could not believe that the dumb girl who was always in trouble could have gotten 100 on her test. I could see the wheels turning in her brain, "How could this deaf, dumb and blind kid get even one of these answers correct?" She insisted that I must have cheated and wanted to know how I got the answers. All I said was that I didn't cheat, standing there, pretending to be a reed and doing nothing.
I think that just got the teacher more upset. Finally she said, "Sit down over there" pointing to a desk in the front row. So I did. She took out another paper from her desk and handed it to me. "Do this," she said, with those eyes crushing me into my seat. It was another math test. I sighed, took out my pencil, started answering the math problems. After a few minutes, with the teacher watching me like a hawk from her desk, I finished the test and put my pencil down. She couldn't see what I was writing. She asked, "So you can't answer the questions?" I said I was done. She said I couldn't be done, there wasn't enough time to take the test. I held up the paper and said I was done. She came over, grabbed the paper, looked at my answers, and said, "How did you do this?" I just said, "I answered the questions, that's what you asked me to do. Didn't I do it right?"
She went back to her desk, staring at the paper, and told me to get my stuff and go home.
That's the way most of forth grade went. No one believed I was smart, and I had to prove myself over, and over, again. I still got picked on a lot, but I don't remember much of it, I got pretty good at ignoring it. I didn't leave any more bloody noses laying around after third grade.
Fifth through eight grade was pretty easy in school. I got a new BTE around sixth grade, after more rounds in the sound booth, and my hearing was significantly better. Music still sounded bad, but I didn't miss nearly as much as I used to before my BTE. I was getting straight A's, except for religion class, usually B's there. Bullying, name calling, most nastiness from other kids pretty much ended before the end of fifth grade. At least I stopped noticing it if it did happen. Kids even started coming to me for help, and I was pretty good at helping. Some kids were having a lot of trouble understanding the teachers, especially with math and science classes. For some reason, after I explained what the teacher was trying to say, most were able to understand and get the right answers on tests after that.
I was also good at helping with other types of problems. It started with match ups. I over heard, or over saw, people talking, and I knew a girl and boy who liked each other but neither wanted to move first, afraid of rejection. I told them each what I heard, and got them together. It worked.
Then some girls were complaining about their mom's, never letting them do anything fun. I over heard the discussion, or actually over saw the discussion from across the room, and told them what I thought. Just simple advice about what I had learned. Some "Tree and Willow" stuff, some "Honey and Vinegar", but in simple terms that they understood.
You don't know "Honey and Vinegar?" If your nice I'll tell you.
They didn't believe it would work, actually didn't believe I was even talking to them, and they laughed at me. But some of them tried it, it worked, their moms actually listened to them. Surprise! If you actually talk, instead of complain and scream, and you sometimes even get heard.
OK, "Honey and Vinegar" - short for "You catch more flies with honey then with vinegar." Now I'm sure many of you know the meaning. Basically, if you're mean to others, they will likely be mean back. However, if you're nice to others, maybe, just maybe, they will be nice back. Certainly doesn't guarantee anything, but it's a lot better then throwing vinegar in someone's face.
I'm not going to tell who I helped with what advice. But people started trusting my advice and help, and surprising especially to me, listening to at least some of what I said.
One thing I got very good at was reading people. A girl would ask me if a certain boy liked her, I would tell her my opinion. I guessed at lots of things and was right most of the time, but I was pretty much always right when I thought someone liked someone else.
Well, that got me through eighth grade. Some kids still gave me some problems. I was tall and skinny. I talked and behaved differently from everyone else. I read a lot but usually not always what anyone else read. Of course I read Harry Potter, and some other books others also read. But I like history books, ancient stories like the Iliad and the Odyssey (the original by Homer, not the one with Brad Pitt and Orlando Bloom), and a lot of Edgar Allen Poe. Almost anything about death was a good read for me. I didn't like Anime, that alone made me different. I talked very little, unless someone talked to me first. I didn't like music or watch the same TV shows as everyone else. I almost never went to the movies. And I wasn't very concerned about my appearance, which got me a few unpleasant comments. Most of the other girls talked a lot about cloths, and dressed in what they thought was the latest nice fashion. I was happy with sneakers, jeans and a too large t-shirt every day, and a nice baggy hoody in the winter. And I hated sports, especially team sports. I was not very good at all working in a team. Otherwise I did well, at least at school. Home was a very different story.
For the most part, school was fine, but life, especially at home, was still not so good. Out side of school, things seemed to me to be getting even worse. In fact the thought of death, and trying it out, got much worse for a while. My next story, about dad, will show a bit of how bad things were getting at home.
Then high school.
Boys started noticing me. Apparently some boys thought I was "hot." I was tall, taller than most of the boys. But I guess they thought I had enough curves in the right places. I was still pretty much the fastest runner in Freshman year, and probably still one of the strongest. But the boys were growing, and several were passing me in height and strength. Because I was still "different," I guess some boys thought I was also "easy." I didn't leave any with bloody noses, but they all got the message. No means "NO." None of the boys really wanted to be my bf, they just wanted to score. Yes, we were thirteen or fourteen, and some of the boys were already pigs.
School was pretty much the same except we changed classrooms and teachers for every subject, and I still got mostly A's.
I didn't really have any friends, or people I would call friends, just lots of people I knew and spent a few hours a day with in class. I especially liked computer classes, and had the most fun there. I got along great with the teacher, and helped my classmates a lot.
I still read a lot, almost anything I got my hands on. I read some sci-fi, but I was mostly into fantasy. I also read a lot of history. And I still had an obsession about death, but I had a lot to think about now. I'll discuss death later. I also started writing a lot, starting around sixth grade, but a lot more once I started high school. I destroyed most of what I wrote before High School in a fit of sadness. I was still very quiet, shy, not very social. Didn't date any boys until Junior year.
I still helped people with lots of different problems. My "friends" still came to me with their troubles, and sometimes I could actually help them. One of my next stories will be about one of those problems, one which had a great impact on me. It's about the very controversial subject of abortion and choices.
But first, let's talk about dad. My dear old daddy.
NEXT ---> Dad and Death
