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Miss Fortune |
| Written by John Wells | |
| Thursday, 13 March 2008 | |
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Share it:      Miss Fortune September l966 was a most transitional period in his late childhood. One month earlier, his father had passed away from a heart attack. One month earlier, he was living in California on a nine acre apple orchard. He was nine years of age. The move to beautiful British Columbia was a great adventure for him, a great way to leave the past behind most quickly and press on. In his family, one victory had been achieved : his brothers aged 17 and 18 would escape the draft for Vietnam, but it came at the price of losing his father. His two brothers, himself, and his mother moved into his aunt's house temporarily before finding a place of their own. The aunt's family consisted of his aunt, his grandmother, and three of his cousins in the same age range as him. It was a big house, and there was lots of space for all to have their private as well as congregating places. He would attend grade 5, his new school year, in a new city and country for the first time on Monday morning two weeks into the semester. He was for all purposes by himself. His cousins who attended the same school were in different grades or classrooms. He did not even walk with them to school that morning. He wanted to be alone with himself and he wanted to find his own way there. He did not know how long the walk to school would be, so he left earlier than his cousins. The walk did seem long. He went down straight stretches of sidewalk followed by two descending hills. On the last hill, he could see the school in the distance. He knew he would make it there alright and not be lost. He arrived at the school very early, perhaps at 8:00 am. No other students had arrived, but he did see his teacher going up the stairs to his classroom. How he knew it was her, he could not say, only that she was the one. Quickly, he ran to meet up with her and introduce himself. It appeared as though she was pleasantly surprised and encouraged to have one of her students befriend her in this manner so early in the morning before she was actually in her teaching role. It was as if he caught her a little off guard and was seeing her more as a middle aged woman than the teacher. She invited him into the empty classroom, gave him a desk to make home with, and told him that she would probably be in and out for the next forty-five minutes getting papers printed and doing other school chores. Five or so minutes passed and then he saw a few of the students enter. These students were ones who came in early to help out the teacher, or to simply finish their homework they forgot the day before. He saw nothing unusual in any event leading up to this moment as he compared this experience with his former school days in the states. He then heard the final buzzer ring for all the students to enter the class. He was excited. Here he was. It was like starting a new life and he could make it anything he knew of. He quickly took notice of some of the girls coming in and smiling at him. There were two or three together who were exceptionally pretty and were already showing the early physical characteristics of womanhood. Most of the other boys were also more physically mature than him, but they did not wear the neater clothes he had brought with him from J.C. Penny. So, he did stand out a little from his peers, and when he spoke, which was a little later, they said they could hear a slight accent in his voice on a few of his words like 'route'. All of the students were curious about him but only a little. He was rather shy of where he was and so he stuck to the quiet side, making observations on how to comply with both the rules of the class and his peer group. He had only been to one other school in his whole young life, and he was hoping that this place would not be harder than where he had been. School had rarely been a place he was comfortable in. He first only wanted to blend in doing the usual requirements in the hope that the time during these early days would quickly pass. Later though, with the teacher's encouraging spirit he thought he had sensed, he could become a stand out student. As the first lesson of the day began, which was reading, the teacher announced him to the class as a new student and asked them to assist him if he needed any help in the classroom or in and around the school. With that part of it over, he felt relieved and was eager to begin learning. The morning passed quickly. A student a few desks behind befriended him at morning recess and they ate lunch together on the playground, and he showed him around the school. The afternoon sessions began and the first lesson was math. Suddenly, he realized he did not have a pencil for the work. He was unsure of what to do. He did know the students around him very well, so he raised his hand to tell the teacher that he did not have a pencil. The teacher smiled and nodded and said that he could use a pencil of hers. The teacher did not say anything regarding how long he could use it. She just handed him the pencil and immediately continued with the lesson. He assumed that this pencil was non relevant: it was common property: it was simply a tool for learning the math work. A few days passed by and all was going well with him. One morning just before recess, the teacher asked him about the pencil he borrowed from her. Before the whole class, she looked at him and said, "you have not returned the pencil I lent you a few days ago." He had forgotten all about it. He did not know that this pencil was of such value to her. In the states, the teachers had plenty of pencils on hand in a spare pencil box in their desk, in case students broke or lost theirs. He was puzzled and he did not know how to respond. Suddenly, he remembered a student from grade 4 whom upon responding to similar areas of uncertainty could evoke an answer that met humorous reactions from both the class and the teacher. He realized he was in a very stressful moment; a serious interplay had begun between the teacher and himself. He decided to respond the same way he thought his grade 4 mate would do. He said in a casual light-hearted assured manner, "well, you did not ask me to return it to you." This was a colossal mistake. He was hoping to lighten the whole situation but he made everything worse. He saw the teacher's face explode into rage, real rage. He had never seen her react so violently with any other student in the short period of time he had been in this class. He never thought that she had such tendencies. He doesn't accurately know what she said, only that it was 'her' pencil and she had never offered it to him as a gift or for him to keep. He was completely caught off guard and was truly sorry he had caused such friction, but he was also most bewildered by her reaction. It was quite a mix of emotions he had. He immediately burst into tears; his body began to shake. He was losing all composure. He tried to do his best to suppress his feelings in front of all the students, but it was impossible. He felt humiliated and somewhat betrayed because he believed he and the teacher on their first meeting together had established a relationship beyond that of student and teacher. She was that person to him in the beginning, but now seeing the level to which she fell, he could never open himself to her again. He could not be the student he wanted to be with her. Something had been taken back, something disempowering to both of them. They would both regress; she to being the teacher and never showing him her persona again, and he to the more immature pupil, where he would find safety, where less would be expected of him. It was all over for him. The idea that he could be a great student with a great teacher had passed. He would now assume his average capabilities. There was nothing to shine for anymore in her class. She was not that person he thought she was. She only had a second of brilliance in his eyes. She was after all, Miss Fortune. Copyright 2008 John Wells |
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