Sticky paper hearts, obsolete
tin-can robots, and color-by-numbers math worksheets are the vivid memories
that pepper the inside of my eyelids from the year of second grade. A year that
would be marked with the label, embarrassment.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Holtcamp!” No response,
as the addition lesson continues to smoothly play out like a conductor leading
a symphony.
With my hand raised high in the
air and a lurching feeling growing in my stomach I sputtered, “Mrs. Holtcamp?”
“Class, what is 3+4? Use the color key to color in the correct section,” Mrs.
Holtcamp commands.
Now the feeling is rising; a
gurgling geyser in my stomach. My eyes flutter shut and when they open again
the contents of my stomach are splayed across my desk; seeping, oozing,
drizzling onto the carpet. My cheeks run crimson and molten. 44 eyes stare as
the smell of regurgitated lunch compels fingers to clasp over noses. And all I
can do is sit there like an icicle frozen in the mess, pretending that this is
not happening. I feel the faint sensation of my body being pulled away from the
desk, though I could not say whether it was of my own volition or by teacher
force.
The next flash of recognition
comes as I am directed to stand by the door and wait. Wait for what feels like
a looming punishment. Wait for the texture of flecked vomit to dry on my shirt.
Wait while Mrs. Holtcamp recaps the episode to my mom over the phone. Wait as
the janitor pours a powdery substance over the goo turning it into crystalized
bile. I wait for what feels like the longest time anyone has ever had to wait
in the entire universe; at least the immediate universe of a second grader.
I am startled by the embrace of
cold air as it sucks its way into the classroom and the awareness of my mom
draping me in love, concern, and a mother’s promise that everything will be
alright.
I am finally free of the suspended
humiliation as I find myself in my own bed entangled in well-worn blankets and
teddy bears. The tinkle of ginger ale fizzing in a glass and the hum of a
lullaby conspire against my consciousness to rid me of this torturous day and
summon me off to slumber.
By Blakelee Kelley
WOW!!! This is such great writing! I am so impressed! And I am very sorry this happened to you! How traumatizing! I loved your vivid word choice and descriptions, even though it was about vomit! Seeping,oozing, drizzling vomit! I also like how you incorporate dialogue to advance the plot. I felt sorry for you as soon as I realized what was happening to you, which I discovered through dialogue and your vivid descriptions. I also like how you used repetition with the word "wait" because it really helped me to get a sense of how long you had to stand there waiting for help, feeling humiliated. I am not sure what you could add or change to make this better. I think it would serve as an excellent mentor text to show students how to use dialogue to advance the plot, sensory details to describe, voice, as well as a model for personal narrative writing.
ReplyDeleteThis is an excellent piece of writing. What makes it so fantastic is your vocabulary! A "gurgling geyser" is spot on for what it feels like! And in your paragraph where you're "directed to stand by the door and wait" is so halting with all the one syllable words. Then, when you're safe at home in your bed, the words soften. I love the alliteration and the onomatopia! Sorry, but I don't have any suggestions.
ReplyDeleteThis should be required reading for all new teachers so they'll listen when a student raises her hand!
Hi again. I also wanted to comment about your use of the present tense. It makes it all so current, as if it's happening right now.
DeleteI did think of one idea you could add. In the second-to-last paragraph after your mom has arrived, you could talk about how your messy desk and the janitor seem less important.
That's all I could come up with.
Sorry that everything I write is published twice. What is up with that?
Hi again. I also wanted to comment about your use of the present tense. It makes it all so current, as if it's happening right now.
DeleteI did think of one idea you could add. In the second-to-last paragraph after your mom has arrived, you could talk about how your messy desk and the janitor seem less important.
That's all I could come up with.
Sorry that everything I write is published twice. What is up with that?
This is an excellent piece of writing. What makes it so fantastic is your vocabulary! A "gurgling geyser" is spot on for what it feels like! And in your paragraph where you're "directed to stand by the door and wait" is so halting with all the one syllable words. Then, when you're safe at home in your bed, the words soften. I love the alliteration and the onomatopia! Sorry, but I don't have any suggestions.
ReplyDeleteThis should be required reading for all new teachers so they'll listen when a student raises her hand!
Now that just made my day! Thanks for sharing an embarrassing moment of your past Blakelee. You have quite the gift when it comes to detail and the flow of your writing. It provides for a strong and rich story that makes you feel like you're right there in the classroom with "the sick kid". Did you just have the stomach flue? I tried to think back and remember if I had any moments like this in school, but I think I must have blocked it out. I'm surprised you remember it so vividly! I wonder if the level of embarrassment ever makes us forget or never forget when it comes to these moments.
ReplyDelete