"What on earth is that?" My third grade teacher asked, snatching a piece of paper from my desk with a winged lizard on it.
"It's a dragon." I said plainly, "Do you see? It's breathing fire."
My stout teacher looked at me as if she had just caught me snorting cocaine off the laminate surface of my desk.
"Oh, I see alright... we'll be having a conference about this. Where do these things come from, huh? How many of these 'dragons' have I got from you this week alone?!"
"Well I like them, and it's not like we're doing anything anyway, right? Look everyone is asleep..."
Pleading my case wasn't getting me anywhere, but I just thought it was worth throwing out there regardless. True, a Catholic school probably wasn't the best place to be drawing fire breathing reptiles with the wings of Satan, but at least I was being productive. At least I wasn't asleep like Michelle or William. I guess it wasn't the right move to critique my teacher's agenda, though...
"I assigned rest time! You'll know when I assign dragon time, okay? Now stop drawing those things! They're a pain! History, science, math, you're always doodling. We're having a conference." With that, she stormed away.
It wasn't her discontentment with me that led me suspect her of being a dragon slayer, rather it was her obvious emotional outburst that one particular day.
'I'm in a special school full of dragon owners,' I thought to myself, 'we're here to be taught that dragons don't exist, and the only way to truly limit our power was to raise us to be priests and nuns.'
My mind was made up. This woman was a dragon slayer, assigned by the government to keep we, the dragon owners, in check. Our memories had been erased at a very young age, but for some reason, something had gone wrong with me... a slip-up on the CIA's part. I was still drawing the figures familiar to me from my earlier years, and she recognized this at once. At the conference, my memory would probably be erased again and I would be transferred to another government-run fake Catholic school where I'll think I was an orphan dropped off in front of the church in a basket with a note attached.
The business end of Sister Herman Mary's ruler obviously hadn't daunted me in kindergarten, and from there my miseducation had gone astray. Now it was all up to my third grade teacher to ensure I wasn't a threat to society.
It wasn't until way later down the line that I realized I was just weird. Drawing dragons didn't make me a dragon rider anymore than watching CNN in the fifth grade made me a political guru. Ah, reality sucks. Still though, it helped me get by those rough days in the third grade to imagine that one day, during a lesson, a dragon would crash through the classroom ceiling and recognize me as his true owner.
15 comments:
That line needs to add the phrase "and eat my teacher" then all will be ok with the world. :)
I don't understand teachers who stifle children's creativity when they show signs of individuality. Maybe it scares them? Maybe they think it's rebellion that needs to be quoshed? Maybe they feel the need to check it as soon as possible before it takes over the world? Either way, it sucks!
Um, I meant to say, that LAST line needs to read.... :) DUH.
Veggie Assassin, I completely agree! I think I might add that phrase, if you don't mind... :P
Well they missed a spot on me, thankfully! Haha I remember I left a comment about this very issue on your blog a while ago! "Little Lucifers"....
I'm willing to bet that once you left her class, she missed finding those dragon doodles!
=)
Children are born perfect and we ruin them one day at a time. When a person is born, or reincarnated, they bring memories of the past with them. Those ideas are confused and ill-conceived and often show up as ghosties and beasties and things that go bump in the night. Most teachers have lost that ability to see into the past or future. Phooey, is all one can say.
Alexandra, she kept every single one of them! Sometimes I wonder if she still has them... perhaps they're framed in her house.
Punch, I say in unison, phooey!
Children's imaginations should never be stunted. How nice though that you are still young enough to be able to remember events in grade school. The only thing I remember from grade school is a teacher making me sit in the corner with my back turned and a dunce cap on because I ate a piece of cheese that was on the lunch table along with other cheeses. She also hit my hand with a ruler. The cheese was good, though...I was hungry.
Thanks for sharing your wonderful stories Juan Pablo. Have a great Wednesday. Go Slay Them!!!
I hate the ruler the most Gloria! LOL, I only got it when I wasn't paying attention. Also, I was left handed so they made me write my letters and numbers different.. hey there's a blog post idea! haha
Hi.
Thanks for the nice comment about my poetry. It means a lot (seriously). I have been kind of shy about putting my stuff out there until recently, so the feedback is wonderful.
Also, I am really enjoying your blog : ).
Thanks for the comment Hannah! And your poetry is awesome!
"My stout teacher looked at me as if she had just caught me snorting cocaine off the laminate surface of my desk."
You are too funny :)
Dragons are legendary creatures, if only they existed. They could eat my loud neighbor to bits.
I don't think you're weird at all. Dragons are awesome, especially if they eat your nun teacher.
Donut girl, I'm so glad my cocaine jokes aren't wasted on someone! :D
And thanks Valerie! Yes, I remain a supporter of the dragons LOL
JP - your writing rocks. Took me a while to stop by as I just started graduate school. Thanks for the comments on my blog. Looking forward to dropping in on each other's work from time to time...peace, Caroline
Your blog keeps getting better and better! Your older articles are not as good as newer ones you have a lot more creativity and originality now keep it up!
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