Miss Ryan

Happy Saint Patricks Day!

I committed yesterday to share my very first journal entries from little, eleven-year old Blue. So here you go, exactly as written 31 years ago today (Gives me great hope for Gator, frankly!):

March 17, 1980 - Saint Pactricks Day Monday

Thay anounced the winners of the play and I was suposed to be Miss Hanigan

I hate Miss Hanigan and Miss Ryan my Mean fith grade teacher kicked me out

Kim Pricherd got the part I wanted, Annie

Boy I hate Miss Ryan

Miss Ryan Hates Me so Much

she wouldnt even tell me who grace was

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 19, 1980

Mrs. Ryan Likes me now and

Im in the play as Miss Hanigan

But I dont care that much

Im in math right now But i'm done.

(Sadly, the next entry was seven months later so we will ever be deprived of further detail about the glories of playing Miss Hanagan which were increased by the casting of my younger sister as one of the orphans I got to pick on.)

I've written before about Miss Ryan (no, she didn't get married between entries). She was my all-time favorite teacher and had an invaluable impact on me at a critical time in my life. So I was surprised when I read that first entry to Gator. My childhood was a field of extremes...love, hate, good, bad, ugly, pretty, all, nothing. It's taken a lot of work to embrace the middle, the myriad shades of gray.

Two months ago while on a layover in California I decided to track down my beloved teacher. She's been married for decades now, but she always will be Miss Ryan to me because I refuse to grow up.

I had so many questions for her. I wanted to know if she knew, or even suspected, anything about my home life and how things were going for me. I mean, it was 1980...a different era in terms of awareness of neglect and abuse. But still, was that why she took an interest in me? Did she know what a huge impact she had on me?

It was a Sunday evening when I finally met up with her. Ever the superhero teacher, she was in her classroom at the school where she now teaches, preparing for her week.

I only had an hour before I had to head back to the airport, but it was such a sweet visit for me. Miss Ryan's had thousands of students in the course of her career, yet she absolutely remembered me (I must have a way about me).

Miss Ryan and me...31 years later

We had a nice visit, filling in the gaps in our lives. I was able to thank her for what she did for me...after telling her how important she was in my life. Despite what I wrote on March 17, 1980, she really has always been one of my heroes...one of my life's angels. And being in that play was the start of some fun experiences for me...despite not getting to wear the red afro wig!

So the moral of these stories is (this really should have been part of yesterday's post), keep a journal, kids! You never know but what it might come in handy in enchanting your beloved someday. And it's like free therapy when you're struggling...but be honest and thoughtful about what you write. Show the whole picture. We can't learn and grow from our mistakes and follies, or see how far we've come, if we don't acknowledge them. And your kids won't be able to laugh their heads off at how ridiculous you use to be if you don't put in all the good stuff! Put the date on each page. Don't bother with stuff that really doesn't matter, but do include feelings and thoughts that are significant. Remember, venting on paper is better than being mean to others. You can always tear a page out if you really don't want words you've written to be remembered...but you can't take actions or spoken words back.

Have you ever gotten in touch with someone you'd lost touch with from your past (not counting Facebook)? Did you have any heroes as a child? Were any of your teachers exceptionally important in your life?

Grateful for:

1) Education. Gracious, I had no idea how atrocious my grammar and spelling use to be!

2) Perspective that comes through the passage of time.

3) Chances to thank those who have blessed my life.