Harmful Verbal Literacy; Autobio 4

Roller coasters, boogie men below my bed, and the fear of losing a loved one all do not compare to my daily fear of disappointing my parents and anyone important. Only recently I noticed how most of my decision making is driven by the hope that one option was better than others because it prevented disappointment. I know I don’t live solely for those people and I can become disappointed with myself, but their hopes and expectations become my own. Sometime in elementary school that group of important people included teachers. I spent some seven hours with teachers, five days a week for most of the year—naturally I recognized them as authoritative figures that should be respected almost like parents.

I made one measly mistake in second grade. One mistake the teacher felt necessary to expose to the class. One mistake that resulted with me writing ‘I will not leave my lunch box in front of the door because others may get hurt’ a hundred times. Of course my classmates would not trip over it, but she would the way she stormed through the door. Yes, I can go on about how the details of that day indicate that she had as much blame in my forgetfulness but I will never forget her public verbal tongue lashing. “Who is the irresponsible idiot who left their lunch box here…I could have fallen, I could have gotten hurt, don’t you realize how old I am, how could you hurt your teacher!?” Denying I was the irresponsible idiot was not going to happen, not while my peers were quick to glance at me. I was embarrassed. To talk back and explain myself was simply not an option at seven years old. But nothing stung more than her recognition that the irresponsible idiot was me. You have to realize, before that day I had gained a wonderful academic reputation and I was well liked by teachers including her. It’s like she took all the past compliments, all the proud smiles and acknowledgments back when she said “I am very disappointed in you.” I remember turning in the scribbled pages of redundant torture she asked for and all she said was “I couldn’t believe it was you.” I remember apologizing, but in my heart it was not because of my petty crime, but because I caused her disappointment and she told everyone I was an ‘irresponsible idiot’. With those two words, she lowered my self esteem and condemned me as one of the dumb kids always acting up in class for attention.

I hate public scolding. I hate receiving it and I hate witnessing it between teachers and students especially when students are not free to explain themselves. I can’t help but sympathize for my peers and even though I am innocent, I still feel just as bad as they might. I want to yell back at teachers and tell them to take it outside like it’s a special brawl for the sake of that student, guilty or not they shouldn’t have to endure the humility. Some people might argue it’s the best way to teach someone a lesson, I’d say it’s a way to make enemies. I never went out of my way to pull a prank on my teacher, but I failed to stifle my hysterical laugh when she sprained her ankle tripping on her own foot. My relationship with her was never the same thereafter; I couldn’t forgive her the way I forgave my parents for irrational disciplinary actions. I never left my lunchbox carelessly around but that incident was the first for me and the last time I gave subsequent teachers any cause to embarrass me. All I’m saying is, there is a time and a place for disciplinary actions toward students and public humiliation should be a last resort.