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Passions in Poetry

If You Ignore This Will It Go Away?

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serenity blaze
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0 posted 11-18-2008 05:14 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

Or would it rather be in trouble than ignored?

I've been thinking, which prompted me to googling  

* * *

mar·gin·al·ize (märj-n-lz)
tr.v. mar·gin·al·ized, mar·gin·al·iz·ing, mar·gin·al·iz·es
To relegate or confine to a lower or outer limit or edge, as of social standing.


margin·al·i·zation (-l-zshn) n.

from  The Free Dictionary by Farlex

* * *

I'm going to assume that we have all felt the lonely sting of being a minority voice against a tsumami of popular opinion.
(Some of us even had "cooties" in grade school! )

What I want to know is what you all think about how effective a deterrant it is against "the undesirable" elements of whatever-your-opinion of a perfect society might be? Is marginalization a passive aggressive cousin to facism? Or does does it incubate facism from the resulting resentment of those being marginalized?

And yes, I did run across professor Roger Griffin's theory of "palingenetic ultranationationalizm" while I was googling. And nope, I don't know what that means. Even after I looked it up.

And nope, I haven't read his book. (I didn't know the guy existed until now.)

Um, I thought I was doing some deep-thinkin' today.

But help me out folks. Educate me, enlighten me. Feel free to restructure/ and expand my initiating post if you like--I'm not so "swift", so analogies, and historical examples are more than welcome.

The lunatic fringe thanks you in advance.

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1 posted 11-18-2008 05:31 PM       View Profile for Midnitesun   Email Midnitesun   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Midnitesun

I've spent most my life outside the margins, er, maybe I was marginalized and didn't really know it? I've never heard of Prof Griffin or his theory, but do believe most species seem to have 'marginal' populations that get rejected...culled from the main herd.
And this phenomena seems to cross all political/social spectra. Too bad, because there is nothing more wonderful than diversity.
Hope this comment makes sense, dear. (I am overdue for my afternoon nap.)
serenity blaze
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2 posted 11-18-2008 05:37 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze


kissing your head

Thanks for bringing up the "herd culling" bit. I hadn't thunk that far.

You dream sweet, and come back, k?

Love you dear one.
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3 posted 11-18-2008 10:53 PM       View Profile for Balladeer   Email Balladeer   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Balladeer's Home Page   View IP for Balladeer

Don't try to fool me, serenity gal. You were googling "more gin" and came up with marginalize. That's the REAL story here!
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4 posted 11-19-2008 10:48 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

"In communities there are little players and big players, and the biggest players of all are the keystone species. As the name implies, the removal of a keystone species causes a substantial part of the community to change drastically."

Edward O, Wilson
The Diversity of Life

and much appreciation to you, Kacy, since that applies to some introspection I've been doing regarding rebellion, marginalization, and yep, self-marginalization. (I'm finding the animal kingdom particularly fascinating at the moment. The very tenacity of even the insect world is inspirational to me. Here, in another passage from the same work:

"And perhaps the most intriguing example of them all: the Socorro sowbug (Thermosphaeroma thermophilum), an aquatic crustacean that has lost its natural habit and survives in an abandoned bathhouse in New Mexico."

That reminds me of my own beloved brother, who was um, once also marginalized from his Texan environment when he broke a Bandito code of non-interference in thier domestic disciplinary actions.

I have stuff more to the point, but like you, I am tired. So I think I'll take my little book to bed with me.


Gnite hon.
serenity blaze
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5 posted 11-23-2008 01:30 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

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6 posted 12-03-2008 05:00 AM       View Profile for latearrival   Email latearrival   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for latearrival

Yesterday's newspaper had a brief article that stated: "almost one in five young American adults has a personality disorder that interferes in every day life, and even more abuse alcohol or drugs, researchers reported Monday in one of the most estensive study of it's kind.

The disorders include problems such as obsessive or complusive tendencies that can sometimes lead to violence. The study also found  fewer than 25 percent of college aged  Americans get mental help.

One expert said personality disorders may be over diagnosed. But others said the results were not surprising since previous , less rigorous evidence has suggested mental problems are common on college campuses and elsewhere."

"The study was released in Archives of General Psychiatry"

In my life time I have seen; read and heard of many  young women,(two of my own)
who were diganosed as Bi Polar or some degree of that disorder. I have  thought about  this constantly and  read books and come up with no answer. The change in our food with so many additives?; bad genes?;  not enough disipline or routine order and demands made; on and on. Now I wonder if we are over inter generated as our life spans  have gone on so long that we must have over the years intermarried with no way of knowing. This thought came about since the DNA of people has been able to tell us we almost all came from the same origins. You are not alone in wondering and looking for answers. Love ya, "late"

[This message has been edited by latearrival (12-03-2008 05:38 AM).]

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7 posted 12-03-2008 05:34 AM       View Profile for latearrival   Email latearrival   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for latearrival

Then too regarding  your question, It seems to be a natural instinct to step on the head below you as you go up...  Knowing the early history of New Haven Ct.  I came to understand the prejudicial feelings there.  I felt this strongly as the neighborhoods  were sort of contained by like  backgrounds. So I grew up in a  mostly Catholic,  Italian,  Polish and  Irish  neighborhood. I  was laughed at and taunted a lot because I was the only  Protestant  and of German descent in that neighborhood. As a young girl I always  became confused with "religion" and  "nationality"  so I would spout, "I am Protestant and German and I'm proud!", when they constantly asked me to say my prayers for them or call me "Nazi".  Of course I did not know the Catholic prayers so it was hard for me to come up with much.

New Haven, in those years had an Italian Mayor,  followed by an Irish Mayor and then by a Black Mayor.  If it follows that order there may be a Mexican mayor.  The old hen peck order.  Just my thoughts on the subject.  Even the Catholics were  always segregated by  nationality   each having it's own church and school, and a Priest and Nuns of the same. Over the years that has changed because they do not seem to be able to attract young priest and as the older ones fade,  the churches are having to combine. It may be for the best. My Catholic girlfriend was not allowed to go to the YWCA  with me as it was said to be prostentant.  Needless to say I was a very shy young girl. "late"

[This message has been edited by latearrival (12-03-2008 09:25 AM).]

serenity blaze
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8 posted 12-03-2008 08:57 AM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

Sheesh. Thanks marty jo.

(I thought I'd been marginalized.)

I'll be back later. (dr.'s appointment)

I, um, ignored something and it didn't go away. Love ya lady!
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9 posted 12-04-2008 08:09 AM       View Profile for rwood   Email rwood   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for rwood

I don't think people go away, but they can direct their energies into something productive and possibly stimulating to the essences of their being. Acceptance, usually creates very strong life bonds, or in the least it gives a person's spirit..wings.

such as, I did get into a lot of trouble as a child. Not from normal misbehavior. From reading too much. Yep. I was obsessed with books.

Instead of listening to the teacher, I'd get lost into a world of my own and wouldn't hear a thing anyone said. A trance of sorts. I'd sneak little books into my big math books, etc.

I was completely bored in class, filled with nervous energy, and I didn't fit in with all the other little cliques of girls, so I escaped, my way. Which didn't work out too well with me grades. (lots of "disorders" there. LOL)


They had a talk about me. Decided not to banish me from my books, but to give me ALL the books I could possibly want. The library. As long as I kept my grades up in all my "mean" math haha, I could hang out in the library after I finished my regular work and be a mini-librarian. A real jobber-book girl.

But as I aged....the books went away

because of the internet, many libraries are halls of air. But I love the vastness of the internet, too.

I just miss the scent of books and visit brick and mortar books stores regularly.

So, I'm still a book worm...have books everywhere around me and I'm easy for gifts! Always a book!!

It would be hard for a fascist to cull me. I've read up on them. LOL! And since I have, I wouldn't want to practice that mentality as a person upon another person.

I was personally happy that they marginalized me to a degree, but I know things don't work out that way for so many.

And I do feel drugs are pushed to the young to keep them in line. Not so sure what the heck is going on there, since I'm not a doctor, but I wish there was more emphasis on natural remedies or redirection of those energies.

hope this hit some mark for you there, my lady.

have a great day being you.


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10 posted 12-04-2008 05:02 PM       View Profile for Stephanos   Email Stephanos   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Stephanos's Home Page   View IP for Stephanos

Just for a clarification,

Fascism is not mere "marginalization", nor is it an attitude of one person concerning another.  It is a full scale national program of hyper-nationalism which is militant and organized.  Just as compassion does not equate socialism ... neither do personal attitudes equate fascism.  

Of course the principles that underlie fascism are present in any kind of society.  Is it good or bad to "marginalize" child molesters?  Those who have children would probably admit some of both.  Fascism is the abuse of a principle that is unfortunately necessary at times.  And paradoxically enough, it has often been instituted with the goal of eliminating classes (which are forms of marginalization).  

The theory you quoted, Karen, refers to the ideal of "national rebirth" (which is what 'palingenetic' means) apart from which there is no such thing as fascism.

One may say that fascism uses "undesirables" as enemies, since any revolution needs conflict to fuel the intense feelings of nationalism that are involved.  This is mostly illegitimate, such at when Hitler used "science" to prove his anti-semitism was warranted.

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11 posted 12-04-2008 09:09 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

Pronunciation: \ˈfa-ˌshi-zəm also ˈfa-ˌsi-\
Function: noun
Etymology: Italian fascismo, from fascio bundle, fasces, group, from Latin fascis bundle & fasces fasces
Date: 1921
1often capitalized : a political philosophy, movement, or regime (as that of the Fascisti) that exalts nation and often race above the individual and that stands for a centralized autocratic government headed by a dictatorial leader, severe economic and social regimentation, and forcible suppression of opposition
2: a tendency toward or actual exercise of strong autocratic or dictatorial control
— fas·cist  \-shist also -sist\ noun or adjective often capitalized
— fas·cis·tic  \fa-ˈshis-tik also -ˈsis-\ adjective often capitalized
— fas·cis·ti·cal·ly  \-ti-k(ə-)lç\ adverb often capitalized

* * *
palingenetic - 4 dictionary results
Sponsored LinksEnglish Dictionary

pal⋅in⋅gen⋅e⋅sis   /ˌp¿lɪnˈdʒɛnəsɪs/ Show Spelled Pronunciation  [pal-in-jen-uh-sis] Show IPA Pronunciation  

–noun 1. rebirth; regeneration.
2. Biology. a. embryonic development that reproduces the ancestral features of the species (opposed to cenogenesis ).
b. Obsolete. the supposed generation of organisms from others preformed in the germ cells.

3. baptism in the Christian faith.
4. the doctrine of transmigration of souls.

* * *

Definitions do help.   And a warm "hello" to you, too, Stephan. You've been missed.

I haven't read, Roger Griffin, and sadly, even with your help, I still don't understand his theory. So I can't say that I am a proponent of it, now can I? I found it interesting though, and he's on my list of "get around to it" reading. The main point of my question is this:-

"Is marginalization a passive aggressive cousin to facism? Or does does it incubate facism from the resulting resentment of those being marginalized?"

(I tossed in the link regarding mental illness diagnoses because that has snowballed into a phenomenon of labeling, sometimes to the point of romanticizing personality traits that are perfectly normal stages, cycles, or reactions to the events of life unfolding.) And um, that has particular interest to me. *wink*

I'm not sorry I tossed in the Griffin bit though, because it apparently caught your attention and your clarification made me look up the word, and I'm finding the biological and religious definition equally intriguing.

But thank you for your input, but I prefer to not get sidetracked into a discussion about Hitler. Yet.  

Reggie? You're lovely to pop in here, as well.

Your reply made me think of something that happened to me in the grade school. I'm not sure if it's important or not, but it might give some insight into why I'm even musing on this.

So...A story? *grin*

Fourth grade. Scary stuff. It happened that was the grade in my school where students started changing classes. Most students, anyway. I'm not saying this to bang my own drum, but I was a special needs student, and back then, they really didn't know what to do with the smart kids. But they did put me in the highest classification, and there was only one teacher who handled that brainy elite. I was excited too. I thought I'd finally have instruction I could sink my teeth into, and I wanted so intensely to have a connection with what I'd hoped would be a mentor.

She was a dream, too. The idealistic perfect teacher. We were to read, read, read, in her class. We were to explore symbolism and learn to use simile and metaphor, and I was fairly smug since I already knew what those things were. I couldn't wait to "wow" her. I'd read everything on her reading list. I was...spiked! She was also to be my geography teacher, and art! I loved her before I met her.

Her class was arranged differently too. She believed in "work groups". So the desks were arranged in squares of four, students facing each other, as opposed to the solitary lines that all faced the blackboard. This was cool beans for me.

This lady meant business. Her class was neat and clean and orderly. She had books at our disposal--a private library she'd set up. But she did like things in place, and this class was nearly perfect. There was just one thing out of place-and that was me. Y'see, the placement of her students desks required an even number of students. She hadn't planned on me. I wasn't actually a fourth grade student, but the administration had decided that I would find her class more challenging, so they put me in there, for all of my subjects, excluding math, and science--I was in third grade for math, and fifth grade for science. But that's all besides the points.

This lady was so intent on maintaining her perfect plan, she would not requisite an extra desk for me. I was told to sit in the back, on a sink. (That was there for art students to wash up.) I had no place to put my books. I had to juggle my paper on a book on my lap. Now, I was a little girl and wore dresses, so naturally, when I crossed my ankle across my thigh, my panties showed. This infuriated her, and she would publically chastize me regarding "lady manners." And oh, it was worse, too. The sink was quite often wet, and sometimes there would be paints, or clay where I was to sit. She kindly supplied me with paper towels to clean the sink before I sat. But as I would do this, she would tap her foot impatiently and tell the class:

"We'll begin when Karen is ready--are you ready?"

So usually I just sat my miserable behind in the mess and then walked around all day with wet splotches on my clothing.

(Kids tease unmercifilly, as you know. They thought me incontinent and I was deemed "pee-body". That, and "cooties" will leave you lonely on the playground.)

A good day for me was when a child was absent, and I was allowed to sit in their desk. But her negativity had infused my classmates, so when that happened, I could actually sit like a normal student, but to the others I was persona non grata. (gratis?)

Now I didn't post my question with the intent of telling this story, but that one woman's treatment of me changed me. I started wearing pants, for one thing, usually stealing my sister's bell-bottomed jeans. (Unusual attire for a third grader in that place, at that time.) I also started a personal campaign to get out of her class. That's when Karen, who always had her hand up to answer questions, started keeping her hand (and her head) down. I grew my hair long to hide my face. And I also deliberately failed tests--and I expressed my hostility in my writing essays.


One other thing? To complete my transformation, I'd started raiding my brother's ashtrays for his "roaches". (That would be the remnants of a marijuana cigarette for you lovely folks who wouldn't know. He smoked filterless camels too, and not knowing the difference I just smoked everything in the ashtray--so I started smoking cigarettes too.)

It wasn't all bad--smile--while sitting in his room I'd read his guitar instruction books, and was introduced to new poetry in the form of Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, etc.

So you see folks, I am an example of how one woman's autocratic determination for a personally "perfect society" created a rebellious little human being, resentful of authority. (I think I've toned that down to "wary". *chuckle*)

I was eventually removed from her class, but I had become more of a loner. I didn't label all teachers as the enemy, but I did cautiously consider each new teacher as a possible antagonist. (So maybe I answered my own question?)

Later on, I had some really good teachers too. A few of them managed to see past my carefully crafted defense of self-marginalization, and I learned to love the teacher/student exchange that employed a respectful form of "mutualism".

Which brings me back to another point to consider:

"The tightest bond of all among species, the one that gives the word community more than metaphorical meaning, is mutualism. This third kind of relationship, often considered the true symbiosis and employed that way in less formal prose, in an intimate coexistence of two species benefiting both. A large part of dead wood is decomposed by termites---not by the termites really, but by protozoans and bacteria that live in the hind guts of the termites.And not entirely by these microorganisms either, since they need the termites to provide them a home and a steady stream of wood chewed into digestible pulp. So the right way to put the original phrase is: A large part of wood is decomposed by ther termite-microorganism symbiosis. The termites harvest the wood but cannot digest it; the microorganisms digest the wood but cannot harvest it. It might be said that over millions of years the termites domesticated the microorganisms to serve their special needs. That however, would be big-organism chauvinism. It is equally correct to say that termites have been harnessed to the needs of the microoganism. Such is the nature of mutualistic symbiosis: to attain the highest level of intimacy, the partners are melded into a single organism."

From The Diversity of Life by Edward O. Wilson

Now there's a nice little snippet of natural order, but is it a good metaphor for society?

Doubt it.

Nobody wants to be the dead wood.  

I imagine looking at Earth from afar, and oh it is such a busy place...

I realize that I can  wave my freak flag, but I also consider that perhaps, that might be considered aggressive behavior by the standards of my common group. I consider that perhaps like with horses, self-marginalization can lead to group agreement of actual marginalization:

An aggressive horse in a herd is marginalized to the outside flanks of the herd, rendering that horse more susceptible to attacks by predators.

Perhaps that explains why so much crap has happened to me!

Kacy? Prayers continue, lovie. Martyjo, thank you for your friendship, it means much to me. Reggie? *smile* You and I could get into trouble together. And Stephan, thanks for your understanding and patience.

It's tea time.   I'm gonna go think about that word palingenesis. It had more applications than I'd considered.

Thanks folks.

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12 posted 12-05-2008 10:13 AM       View Profile for rwood   Email rwood   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for rwood

Wow….what a wretched teacher. I can’t believe she was allowed to entertain the thought of being a component to education, let alone a teacher for gifted children. Now I know why the word “fascist” is readily explored with the definition of marginalization in your mind. Big hugs for the 4th grader in you.

Yep. We could get into tons of trouble, together. Just so happens, my 4th grade teacher was my least favorite in life. She was in no way comparable to the level of your inflictor, but I’d like to share with you some common elements to our 4th grade experience.

Mrs. Palmer (oh yes, I still remember her name) didn’t like me from day one. I was being harassed by my fellow students. Each time she’d turn her back to the class they’d terrorize me with something. Spit-wads, hair-pulling, sharp pencil sticks…the usual antagonizing shenanigans, but if I said anything or reacted, she’d swing around and yell at me for disrupting class. After suffering quite a bit of pain I finally had enough and started swinging my fists. No matter what I said or what evidence I supplied, she’d send me to the office. The Principal visited the class and of course the students begged innocent and Mrs. Palmer said I was “the only one who displayed poor behavior in her class.” WHAT??? I suppose the spit-wads in my ragged hair were put there on my own. He left me to her bidding.

I spent days of her class in the back corner, behind the big projection machine, and totally unable to see the blackboard without bending to one side and tilting my desk, which infuriated her. So if she was going to be infuriated by my improvisation due to HER arrangement, I made sure I gave her real substance. I purposely made faces at her all day during class, which repeatedly landed me in the office. They demanded my Mom to pay them a visit. I was a bit worried then, but incensed beyond my own understanding.

I still remember the distinct click click click sound of my Mom’s heels down the long hall. I cringed. Oh no, she’s really mad. I could hear it with every step.

She didn’t even make eye contact with me in the office, so I felt I was hung, but she did make the Principal take her to my class with me dragging behind them.

Mrs. Palmer poured on the welcome and Mom bypassed her greeting, asking where my desk was, noticing the class was full with every normal desk being taken. When Mrs. Palmer pointed to the back corner, Mom walked very calmly down the aisle in search of my desk. When she saw I was behind the big machine, she took her meeting outside, to the hallway, leaving me in “there” with the door shut!

There I stood, in front of the class, with all my “faces” spent, hating life.

Well the open vent window above the door didn’t muffle a sound.

“You put my daughter behind that big machine? How is she supposed to participate in class when you can’t even see her?”

“OH, I see her, Ma’am. She tilts her desk and makes awful faces at me all day, which makes it very hard to teach my class.”

“Is she not a student? A part of your class? It seems to me you’ve removed her. Out of sight out of mind! I’d make faces at you, too, if you treated me this way. I’ll handle my daughter, but you better integrate her or You (the Principal) better find her another class.”

The class, at this point, was getting totally riled by Mom’s voice, and I was feeling a bit of relief. I had expressed some of what I was going through to her at dinner that week, but I didn’t know if she really heard me. Dinner was a busy event in my house and she was always pressed for time due to being a working mom. It was evident she’d heard me when she flung the door open, grabbed my hand, pulling me into the hall, and then she addressed the class with, “If any one of you inflict another ounce of abuse upon my daughter I will be meeting your parents. Got it! It won’t be Good.” And away we went.

I received a proper seat up front, never made another face, and my classmates thought I had the coolest Mom on the planet.

Truth is: She made peace with a ton of cupcakes and cola’s for that Friday’s (and very convenient) Halloween party, getting a bit even with discolored teeth and lips for everyone due to the blue-black food dye in the spiders she piped on top. HAHA. That’s one way to unite the masses. We all looked like ghouls.

Without some form of intervention? Yeah, things would have progressively worsened and I see myself failing her class and I’d crumbled like any cookie in bad hands. I dunno what I woulda done without my Momma. She’s still an awesome comfort food specialist, too.

I wish I coulda shared a black-toothed smile with you then…
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13 posted 12-05-2008 11:39 AM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

Your last line is a nice segueway into my own ending.

After that year, I dreaded all summer long, as I knew I'd have to be in that woman's class again. (And yes, I complained to my mom, but mom always figured we were guilty of something, and she had my pot smoking brother to contend with anyhow.)

But I went back to the fourth grade, after spending the summer using my allowance to buy packs of Dorals and Rolling Stone magazine, hiding in the woods or on our roof to read. (I had totally embraced my marginalization.)

Sure enough, when school started, I was placed in her class. This time I had a desk though, and this time, there was something different going on. I wasn't sure what it was, but the teachers seemed distracted, clustering in groups, cluck, cluck, clucking. Then one day we all discovered what that was about when "desegregation" and "bussing" was announced on the loud speakers.

Black kids were coming to our school!

I was so excited. I'd never had a black friend before! I didn't understand that it was a bad thing until recess, when all the kids began trying to pull the fence down from around the school in protest. (Oh, I did it too, I didn't know why, it just looked like fun. *shrug*)

But yep, the following week, the black kids were there, and we were all equally fascinated by each other. I was so into our "social experiment" that I didn't even notice that Mrs. Blahbala was gone.

She had quit to take a job at a private school, and Isuddenlyunderstood a lot of things at a young age. I was no longer ostracized on the playground either.

The popular "elite" had a new target to hate.

And I happily made a new friend--a chubby black girl named Angelique who taught me how to play double jump rope.

So I can't say I didn't learn anything from those two years. In fact (and yes, I told this story before) I carried my freak flag on into high school, where I got into a heated discussion with my civics teacher.

We traded thoughts, and tempers rose, until I finally called him a "fascist".

"Go to the OFFICE!"

"Y'see?" I smiled and picked up my books.

And nod. I got my mom's attention that day.

p.s. I ran into the civics teacher years later in the French Quarter. He had realized that teaching wasn't his niche, and was happily playing trumpet in a jazz band. We had a good laugh about the past.

As for Mrs. Blahbala? I try to look for her--in myself. Those thoughts are hard to recognize sometimes, and they creep in yer mind like weeds in a garden sometimes.

*tapping my head*

Love you Lady Regina!

Thank you for sharing stories.
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14 posted 12-06-2008 08:20 AM       View Profile for rwood   Email rwood   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for rwood


not just because that was a lingering after effect of Ess's current post, but because you've allowed your experiences to create a uniquely more beautiful you.

Love you, too!

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