My friend Betsy seems to remember in vivid detail everything anyone said verbatim in elementary or high school. It is horrifying at times because there are a lot of things that we say in a moment as a child that are part of the process of figuring out who we are and how we want to be in the world and a lot of them can be quite unbecoming when one hears them played back as an adult. I viewed some of her recollections as the antithesis of how I saw myself in whatever the present moment, which sometimes forced me to reconcile my believed identity with her words, the words I knew to be true even though I didn't have the same detailed recollection.
We all learn so much in those early years. While a lot of childhood learnings are basic, many of us carry them throughout our lives into adulthood. As I get older, I realize that not all learnings are universal. I learn some things that others don't and they learn some things that I still don't get. That's part of the beauty of the fabric of our collective lives: we all bring something different to the table, and yet, there are common threads that bind our experiences. Here are a few anecdotes that I recall (without Betsy's help!) and use in my life to this day. I hope they bring a dose of familiarity or a smile into your life for at least a moment:
In preschool, I remember sitting on a swing at the playground and asking my friend Becky to push me. She looked at me with slight annoyance and said "Pump" which was confusing because I had no idea what that actually meant and annoying because I wanted her to do it for me. After working it through as preschoolers do, she taught me to pump and I was no longer dependent on others to get what I needed to swing. Lessons: You can do more than you know you're capable of and it is generous when others take their time to teach you autonomy
Music day in the 1970s in our preschool involved a young woman with long dark hair, a guitar and cool clothes coming in twice a week to sing songs with us. She had a beautiful energy about her and the joy that was produced when we all sang created a sense of peace and solidarity and a room that was filled with love. I can still feel that same joy and sense of being full of life to this day. Lesson: No matter what is going on in your day, music can make things feel better.
Getting to start kindergarten at the Kindergarten building across town (pictured below) was a big deal. We got to take a bus and they had a bunch of two wheeled bikes that anyone could use during playground time. We got to take afternoon naps on mats we brought from home (mine was a bright orange shag bath mat with a rubber backing, which, to me, was the epitome of comfort and luxury). Upon waking up from nap one day, a classmate Jeremy said "your face is red" I didn't like the way he said it, and I was prone to red faces anyway, so I told him it was not and argued with him about it. Flash forward a bit and it turns out my red face was because I had chicken pox and, man, was my face red! Jeremy Parsons, if you're out there: I'm sorry I argued with you. I should have listened. Lesson: Ego can be a powerful force. Sometimes you need to let go of it and listen to what you don't want to hear because it might be something you need to face
If I thought Kindergarten was a big deal, I had no idea what I was in for by elementary school. By third grade we were in what I thought was a HUGE building that held BIG kids. It was exciting and scary and we felt both small and big at the same time. I remember walking in a single file line out to recess and seeing another kid get admonished in the hallway. All I heard was the teacher saying "put yourself in the other person's shoes" My head went right to lifting my body up and putting it in a giant pair of shoes that weren't mine and all I could think was "that seems weird" and "what did she mean by that?" I thought about it the rest of recess and realized that she meant the body and mind as well and that I should truly try to visualize the entire experience from another's perspective. I practiced it a lot because I found it so interesting and one can learn a lot from the vantage point of others. Lesson: Empathy is an important and incredibly valuable skill that takes thought and practice to master. And funny enough, this one has paid off in spades in relationship dynamics and has literally been the core of my job more than once whether I was designing experiences to help people go through various life events or doing an analysis where financial services fell short for women over 50.
I wish I could say that I applied the above one consistently from then on, but I didn't. In 3rd or 4th grade, a new girl named Patty moved to town. We all had kids we played with and there was usually room for one more. Patty was a friendly child with white blonde hair and she happily joined our fun. I also remember talking to her alone one time and she told me her birthday was coming up and she asked if I'd get her a present. I was really put off by that and thought it was a ridiculous thing to ask someone she'd barely just met. I walked away and relayed the conversation to some other friends in a gossipy way. I remember watching with surprise and horror at the speed at which it created waves that shunned Patty almost immediately. I got caught up in the power of those waves and thought it best to align myself with the majority even though a part of me knew that I did something wrong there. I'm not sure whether it was days, weeks or months later, but I remember Patty telling me that she decided that she was going to go live with her Dad in Florida. It was only then that it fully hit me just how wrong I had been to not give her the benefit of the doubt, to not put myself in her shoes, to not show her some grace, to shame her for her innocent words and amplify her childlike question into more than it needed to be. I realized in that moment that I probably caused her to want to leave town when she was given a choice (whether that is true or not, I'll never know) and that a selfish action on my part had huge ramifications that expand beyond that moment. I don't know why it still haunts me to this day, close to four decades later, but I can say with certainty that it has made me a better person since then because I never wanted to have such a negative impact on another person again and I wanted to make sure that I thought beyond the moment and understood the implications of the actions I took. Lessons: Words have power and using that power to hurt others have implications that ripple out far beyond where you can see. And putting people down to bond with others is a selfish game that has real consequences. I've thought of Patty over the years and have always hoped that, perhaps, a better life for her was in FL anyway, but I recognize that could also be wishful thinking to absolve me of my regret. Patty - if you see this, I'm sorry and because of you, I have made it a point to do better countless times since then.
I remember having some unexplainable experiences as a kid, in those quiet moments when lying in bed where knowings came to me. One of them, when I was around age 8, was more of a silent conversation and I remember realizing that I could choose an easier path or facing one with more challenges and work, but one that is more rewarding. I distinctly recall giving an emphatic "yes" to the harder path and to learn more in this lifetime. There are many times I've wondered what the heck was wrong with me for making that choice, but the reality is that I believe the lesson from that is: Life's challenges are our greatest teachers. Each person gets a different and unique set of opportunities to learn and our suffering is often purposeful, even though we can't usually see it when we're in the midst of it.
I started playing soccer in first grade on the coed team. I remember doing a lot of running, I remember the horror of accidentally scoring on the wrong goal, I remember almost scoring a goal one time when my teammate Mike pushed me out of the way and scored the goal for our team instead. Overall, I played soccer for 10 years, and was a kid with a lot of gumption, who always charged even if there was a remote chance of getting it, and gave it my all whenever I could. And looking back on it, I didn't have half of the natural talent and ability that most of the kids out there had. And I never did score a goal for the correct team (in my defense, I did play fullback most of those years, though I probably should/could have gotten a goal or two in the times I played halfback). It wasn't until I reached adulthood that I realized how much energy families put into their kids sporting activities, how much money and time was spent on travel teams, how much practice kids did outside of the after school and weekend work we did with our teams, or how much pressure the "good" athletes were under. On the one hand I could feel like an idiot for that, but the reality is that I don't. I am so thankful that I did soccer for the joy of it, for the camaraderie, for the fresh air and for the skills I could build. We had a family life that centered around family, not around achievement or in pushing me to be better than others. It never occurred to me to hesitate to pass to a teammate or try to make it about anything other than the team. I know there are positives in the alternate paths as well, but I'm thankful for the beauty in the simplicity of the road I traveled. Lessons: Give it your all and doing things for the joy of it rather than for external validation is gratifying and fulfilling.
I don't recall the people or the exact dialogue when this lesson hit me, but I do specifically remember standing on the concrete part of the playground at Margaret A. Neary Elementary School (for grades 3-6), looking up the hill towards Betsy's house when it hit me: It is so much easier to be forthcoming with whole truth, even when you're scared to, than it is to remember and keep up with your lies. I do recall someone calling me out on an innocuous detail that I made up and I realized I got the detail wrong. I tried to backpedal and couldn't successfully unwind it without them seeing through my fib. It was embarrassing and I was saddened by the loss of my credibility in that moment. It is still sometimes hard to tell the truth, but once you work up the courage to live in your truth, it pays off in spades over a lifetime.
Around 5th grade was when our sex ed curriculum was launched. Ours was called Learning About Myself and Others, which had the acronym of L.A.M.O. We, of course, enunciated it as "lame-o" and thought we were hilarious. It was also around then that I started to notice body hair and asked my mom if I could start shaving. She was on board and set me up in the bathtub with some instructions on how to use the razor safely. She graciously stepped outside to give me privacy as I got undressed and came back to check on me a few minutes later. "I got one leg done!" I replied proudly. She went off and tackled some other things around the house and when she came back to check on me again I announced "I got two legs and one arm done!" After a brief but palpable silence, she interjected to let me know that the arms are not generally part of the art of shaving. And in hindsight, I sheepishly remembered that I paused before starting my arm to picture whether other women and girls had hair on their arms before proceeding (turns out my recollection was inaccurate!). I was so embarrassed when I realized my mistake, further validated by being back in school and realizing that all the other women and girls did have arm hair after all. Even though it was towards the end of the school year, I remember wearing shorts and long sleeves until the hair grew back and being really hot on the playground. Lessons: listen to those questions that pop into your head and it's often a good idea to ask clarifying questions even if you think they might be silly. To this day I still chuckle at my enthusiasm for my progress (gone a bit too far!).
Ultimately I'm grateful for my recollections and learnings and even for Betsy's stories when she comes up with them. It's been a big learning in life in general is to not hide from the mistakes I've made, or from who I've been over the years and to not be ashamed of the things I wish I had figured out sooner. With discomfort comes growth and boy am I thankful I've grown and learned a lot since those years.
Image from what was then the Kindergarten building I attended in Southborough in the late 1970s
Top image: Field Day in Southborough in 1970-something. Teacher (name unknown), Bryan Fantony, Scott Henderson, David Travis and Meredith Stoddard
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