Often I think of “growing up.” To be WHAT? “When I was growing up,” the term suggests a reach for stature, though I imagine derived mainly from a reach in height. And yet the insides and the outsides grow at different rates, right? Because when comes to height, I “grew up” somewhere between grades 3 and 5. Only thing I remember, is that I was taller than all the boys by grade 4.
We didn’t keep marks on the wall, or anything. Growth itself was not celebrated. And the school…well the school was Lutheran. Mostly that meant each child was under a lot more scrutiny and direction, than our “more-free” counterparts at public schools. At public school, the boundaries were semi-permeable. At public school, if I wanted to spend recess running in a circle on the playground, I could.
So basically, it went from having a REAL recess, to having a pretend recess that was just another subject in school. For me, recess was the freedom to put distance between myself and the other children. I didn’t run outside only to group with other girls in clusters of giggling shields. I went outside with a “thank god” and removed myself as far as I could to find some peace.
So I was different? I really don’t care ‘why’ I was different. Have to understand, that for me, and probably for any individual — my path is the correct one. And it’s all the rest, all the rest of the children that are “different.” A numerical ratio doesn’t matter, within one’s own context of empirical self-calibration.
Is the same as saying 2 wrongs don’t make a right. Simply because the entire world thinks something works a certain way, doesn’t MAKE that way correct. Have to remember that the world was flat, once.
I liked the balance bar at the Lutheran school. A narrow metal girder, about 6 inches off the ground, ten feet long and tapered at one end to touch the ground. The process of putting one foot in front of the other, but in a completely straight line or you fell off. I was looking at my shoes, studying the joint from the rubber to the canvas, and working on placing each step at equidistant points. A crow landed on a fence. A dog barked. I breathed. It was WANTING to find mastery.