I spent some time last night digging through MORE boxes of my ancient journals, letters, and school paperwork. It was exhausting. This is what I learned:
1) Most of my teachers understood me much better than I realized.
2) My youthful self was mean, judgmental, and withholding.*
3) Many of my teachers were much more generous with me than I deserved.**
4) Naked mole rats are still interesting.
5) Dutch and I have quite a bit in common.***
6) I have had quite a few wonderful friends and family members, who have (apparently) forgiven me for being an asshole, and who write great letters. Thank you.
In conclusion: teachers should get paid a lot more, teenagers shouldn't keep journals, **** genes are tricksy, and I have had a pretty lucky life so far.
* I really hope I have improved. Please don't tell me otherwise.
** Though not the teacher who wrote of my class-teaching project in tenth grade, "Her presentation on the bombing of Hiroshima made it, frankly, the least interesting topic of the twentieth century." I'm kind of impressed she wrote such a snarky thing on a report card, and I'm sure it was accurate snark, but jeez.
*** As indicated by a teacher of mine when I was seven, who wrote that I had trouble with "the ambiguity between introduction and mastery." This is still true, of me and of Dutch.
**** And if I die unexpectedly before I get a chance to take care of my boxes of crap, please, for the love of whatever gods, do not read my journals. I will come back and haunt you.
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3 comments:
I want to read them, but I think I can stop myself.
sometimes it's much better to just throw them all out without looking at them, no? i've done the same, and re-reading them all is a painful, embarrassing experience. oy.
No, I disagree. You were a lovely, kind, thoughtful young person. And now you're that, in an older young person.
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