Tuesday, 10 July 2007

Letting the Fire Fly

How does one start the beginning of their story? When is the right point to actually start the beginning? I can start with all the fun stuff when I was younger and go on about how relatives are not speaking to our family, and tell you how that has an affect on me today. I can tell you about stories about my siblings and what we would do to get in trouble but I am not sure that would be where the story needs to take place.
When Life began for me, is such a debate that I am not sure that everyone has a perfect answer to this. For me, life began when I was 16. I started to grow more and more independent on issues and started to really speak my mind about some issues. Now that isn't to say I was out causing alot of havoc or trouble, just when I knew something wasn't right I would speak up on the issue. I sat back alot of my years and said nothing and did nothing and I really got tired of seeing things on the way they were and really wanted to make a difference. I really didn't know how to get those feelings out and express those feelings into the voice that I have today. There were times in school that I would say things when the time was just right, and I discovered the art of knowing when to say something and when to just keep my mouth shut.
There was one time that I can tell you about being in my Science class and the class was a total mess, everyone yelling (you would of thought that I went to a inner city school) the teacher was talking and telling us what we needed to do for our assignment and some of what he was saying was obviously missed from all the noise and craziness going on. I had my hand raised to verify what needed to be done ***(I wasn't the smartest kid I had struggles in school)** After my hand being raised for a period of time and not getting noticed, I walked up to the teachers desk and wanted to get his attention that way. As I approached the desk, and asked the teacher to again go over the assignment I wanted to make sure I heard everything correctly. This teacher yelled at me, to sit my ass down and be quite. I stood there for a moment and I looked over at my friend and walked over to our lab desk grabbed my things and walked right out of class. Now this is one of those times that I had felt at a young but old enough age to yell right back, but I kept that anger inside of me, and I learned that walking away and saying nothing was the right thing to do. I then went to the payphone and called my mom and told her what I just did, and she was on her way to come pick me up, I told her where to meet me. Now our house was about maybe 5/10 minutes away from the school and I can tell you the whole time as my mom was on her way the anger inside of me was waiting to explode. Just then my friend had came around the corner and the teacher had sent her out to come get me to come back to class. I looked at her and knew that she was going to get the explosion to the fire burning inside of me. I said right, I am not going back in there, are you kidding me? she replied with well he sent me to come get you, what should I say? I told her; tell him I am not coming back to his class and that I had just called my mom and leave it at that.
My friend leaves and I walked around the corner of the hall and as my mom was coming down the hallway here comes the Asst. Principal and has a hold of my mom's arm and had her against the wall asking for her hall pass. Well now the fire came right up and out of my mouth.."Get your hands off of my mom" the reaction to that man's face was priceless I can still see it. I know my mom had a few choice words to say at that point but the point was being able to control that fire at one point and letting go when needed for another.
Needless to say it was a very interesting meeting we had my parents, myself and the superintendent and principal and asst. principal. I have to say that I think that was the day I was afraid of my DAD..and for the right reasons he was pissed. Lately as I got older I have spoke my mind more and more and became more open to let the fire go. There are still times that I have learned to keep my mouth shut but that is more on the rare side.
So I would have to say that as writing this it got me thinking as when do you speak your mind or when do you keep your mouth shut? ~Mare

1 comment:

sapphoq said...

I would have liked to have been a fly on that wall when you told the assistant principal to get his hands off your mother.

One time, I didn't have my gym suit or wasn't taking gym that day-- I've forgotten the details-- and the principal accosted me in the hallway. I didn't think I was being snippy. I hardly ever was in those days. One thing led to another shortly and the principal informed me that she should slap me and went to slap my face. I whirled away, causing her to miss, and said, "I'm going to tell my mother on you!"
and then it ended in both of us walking away from each other.

No meetings were ever held in school about me with the parentals, not even when I was drunk at the school play and threw up badly in the bathroom.

My mother never would have roused herself enough to come. By high school she was a no-show everywhere but at work. She never went to P.T.A. nights or anything. That was probably just as well.

Adolescence is a pain in the ass at any age, but for some of us it really does break our shells. In that respect, I am glad I went through it but only for that reason.

I'm not so good at keeping my mouth shut now when I oughta, especially with the influence of the atypical neurology.

I became a shock jock in my own right but the t.b.i. turned that one around and blew it up times a hundred. I don't much mind though.