You have to have a hard shell... like a turtle!

jeanette's comment to my previous post reminded me of my 5th grade teacher. it could've been 6th grade. i don't remember because it was the same damned teacher.

i went to a very small christian private school.* there might have been 25 kids from K-8. maybe. i mean, the 8th grade graduating class had like 2 people in it or something absurd like that.

there were benefits to going to a tiny christian school, though... i have no idea what they are, but i'm sure there must be... unless my parents hated me and just wanted me to suffer...

anyway, there were two teachers there. one for K-4 and one for 5-8. the teacher for grades 5-8 was mrs. carrico. i'm calling her mrs. c because i can't remember for the life of me how to spell her goddamned last name. i don't know. and i don't fucking care. anyway, the other teacher was mr. m. i don't fucking remember how to spell his last name either. manente or something fucked up like that. i'm going off on another tangent. sorry.

i only have a few memories from this school... this one is particularly vivid, though. this guy, peter was mrs. c's favorite. and mrs. c and mr. m never even tried to hide the fact that they had their favorites. they would buy them gifts and treat them all nice in class and they were never rude to these kids. they treated them like people and the rest of us they treated like shit. i never even thought about it until i was older. when you're a kid, sometimes you forget that your teacher is human, too. they should have their teaching credentials stripped. they did us so much wrong.

at any rate, peter would tease me mercilessly. and i was such a sensitive child.** one day i'd had enough and i burst out into tears. mrs. c (who also happened to be the principal) called me into her office and she was concerned and asked me what was wrong...

"peter... *sob*sob* won't leave me alone. *hiccup* he..."

with the mention of peter's name, she stiffened up, handed me a tissue and said, "you know life isn't always easy and you have to be tough. you have to have a hard outer shell... like a turtle!" and that last part was said with so much enthusiasm... it was sickening.

with those words, i immediately stopped crying. i walked out of her office and i learned that i'm the only person who will take care of me. i can't depend on anyone else to protect me. i guess in a way, it was good that she didn't baby me. christ, i don't even remember what peter was teasing me about. but i know that whenever someone gets to me, i always think of mrs. c. but not exactly fondly. i still say she was a cunt.

so yeah. i AM a marshmallowy, gushy person, but don't fuck with me.. because i'll fucking cut you!


*don't send your kids to private schools. they'll turn out fucked up. i should know! lookit me! i'm fucking loony!

**i really was! i wasn't always this way! i had been babied all my life. i was the baby of the family. and then my sister passed away and it was even worse! to this day, despite my sister being younger than me, i'm still daddy's girl. they don't baby me like they used to, but they were very protective of me. more so after my sister passed away.