Musings from early life in India>
1. Self esteem issues.
As a youngster, I ddn't have great confidence in who I was as a person.
In those days you were either an academic or a sportsman if you wanted to be see as successful or popular.
I can't say that I was very successful in either of those areas.
Teaching in those days was carrried out in such a way that it honored the very brilliant but the rest of us were left to struggle our way through.
I was left handed, God forbid, up till recently they had forced left handers to write with their right hands. My penmanship gave up on me and said with exasperation:"I don't know how to teach you to write with your left hand, you will have to learn yourself. Well I did but I was always low on the list when it came to marks for penmanship.
Teachers had the habit of centering the less successful students out by making them go to the board to answer questions or write them on the board. My writing wasn't easy to decipher, snickers were often heard in the background, no wonder when the teacher asked for answers I would slink down in my desk praying she wouldn't ask me to go to the board or give a verbal response.
Spelling bees, another dreaded exercise. The two best spellers would be picked to choose two teams to compete. I was usually the last picked and the first to sit down. No team wanted me on their team, I was a detrement to their chances of winning. I don't think my spelling improved because of spelling bees.
Recess time or lunch time I found myself often by myself playing marbles or gulu danda. These you could play on your own. sometimes someone else would see me playing by myself and come and join me. I suppose we were a fraternity of loosers but not for long.
Sports was big in those days; basketball(I was short), baseball(I was left handed), soccer, well I wasn't very fast. Finally I found my nitch, track and field, again something you could excell in on your own. I ran the Mile and Cross country but not till I was in grades 7 and 8.
In Gym class the gym teacher would again pick the two best atheletes to pick two teams for dodgeball or whatever. I was the last chosen and sometimes the leader who had to choose me would offer me to other team leader. I will give you Bill he would say, with a twinkle in his eye. Of course the other leader would turn down the offer.
Not till grade eight did we have a male teacher. Mr Lott was quite a dresser, fancy jackets etc. He was definitly different. He was instrumental in liberating me to be me. He taught me that I could be male and enjoy the arts, poetry and writing. He even taught us how to go about publishing our poetry. To be male, I didn't have to be a sports jock.
A little earlier, Mr George told me he had a place in his junior chior for me. I hadn't even auditioned, he didn't even know if I could sing but he insisted I join him and the chior for practise. My piano teacher had previously told me I would never make a piano player; "Why don't you try a brass instrument!" she said sarcasticly. I did, I took up three brass instruments.
I was now beginning to discover myself, he wasn't all that bad afterall, looser, I don't think so.
I sort of embarrassed the Jocks when it came to asking the girls out to movie night. The jocks were boasting about who they were going to ask out, the only one that did ask a girl out was little old me, the looser. Eventually I discovered a girl who had similar intrests in poetry and writing. We enjoyed a platonic relationship, writing and reading poetry together.
Thats all for today!
