I am standing next to the teacher, Mrs. Heisler, one I liked very much until the very last day of school that year. The class had made several realistic scenic layouts with clay and paint. One was from the dinosaur era. I don't recall the other one. She held a lottery for who would get each one on the final day of class. Even the kids who won could not take them home because of weight or size, so other kids got them instead. Everyone else had gone home, and I was helping her clean up--perhaps I didn't feel like going home right away. I noticed in a back drawer or cabinet that we had not raffled off one of the plastic dinosaurs and casually mentioned it. She suddenly, and without provocation that I could see, yelled at me to put that item away and close the drawer. I was taken aback and my feelings were terribly hurt. At this point at home we certainly were dealing with the succession of house keepers and then Grandma Sanchez, and mom was not living with us anymore. A teacher I liked was the one constant in my life, and here she was yelling at me all out of proportion to what I had done, if I had even done anything wrong. I remember walking out the door in the afternoon sunlight, hurt beyond imagining.
About This Blog ~ This blog is about a series of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender (GLBT) super-hero, sci-fi, fantasy adventure novels called Rainbow Arc of Fire. The main characters are imbued with extraordinary abilities. Their exploits are both varied and exciting, from a GLBT and a human perspective. You can follow Greg, Paul, Marina, Joan, William, and Joseph, as well as several others along the way, as they battle extraordinary foes or take on environmental threats all around the globe and even in outer space. You can access synopses of the ten books using the individual links on the upper, left-hand column.
The more recent posts are about events or issues that either are mentioned in one or more books in the series or at least influenced the writing of the series.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Laural Elementary School, 4th Grade, 1958-9
I am standing next to the teacher, Mrs. Heisler, one I liked very much until the very last day of school that year. The class had made several realistic scenic layouts with clay and paint. One was from the dinosaur era. I don't recall the other one. She held a lottery for who would get each one on the final day of class. Even the kids who won could not take them home because of weight or size, so other kids got them instead. Everyone else had gone home, and I was helping her clean up--perhaps I didn't feel like going home right away. I noticed in a back drawer or cabinet that we had not raffled off one of the plastic dinosaurs and casually mentioned it. She suddenly, and without provocation that I could see, yelled at me to put that item away and close the drawer. I was taken aback and my feelings were terribly hurt. At this point at home we certainly were dealing with the succession of house keepers and then Grandma Sanchez, and mom was not living with us anymore. A teacher I liked was the one constant in my life, and here she was yelling at me all out of proportion to what I had done, if I had even done anything wrong. I remember walking out the door in the afternoon sunlight, hurt beyond imagining.
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