Mary and I both applied.
We both desperately wanted a better education, and the chance to learn
more, something most of the kids in my school could have cared less about. To get in we both had to take the SAT test,
and go through an interview process.
Mary got in and I was named an alternate. I still remember the disappointment I
felt. I had lost what I felt could have
been a major opportunity for my life, and one of my best friends.
Now I hate to toot my own horn, as I was taught not to, but
I am really, really smart. I think we
have talked about this before. But I was
never smart enough. I wanted, most of my
life to be in gifted and talented classes, but I always missed the cut off on
the test by a few points. I was named to
Who’s Who every year, was always at least on the Honor Roll and about half of
that time on the Superintendant’s List.
But I am an A and B student, never was a straight A kind of person. I was civic minded and was in 4-H, National
Honor Society, SADD (Students Against Drunk Driving), volunteered at the
library and nursing home, and I even
tried and failed to form a Library Club.
My Jr. year or so I also rejoined the Girl Scouts, in hope of working my
way into earning a college scholarship.
That did not happened, but I had a great time, mentoring those little
girls.
My yearbook is full of descriptions of me as beautiful,
crazy, and kind. I was smart and I
reveled in what knowledge I could pick up.
Sometimes my classes were boring, so I brought my crochet, or another
book to read. I still remember reading
“Food in History” during the down times in my World Geography class.
My favorite teacher about that time was Mr. Brian
Gallent. He was super cool. He was tall with glasses and black hair. He had worked for the Shreveport Journal, and
then when it folded became a teacher. He
taught me Civics, World History, and World Geography. I followed him around like a puppy dog,
mainly because he was one of the few persons I could have an intelligent
conversation with. I think he helped
really kick my love of other cultures into high gear. I competed in both World Geography and World
History at the regional level (called the Scholastic District Rally) and went
to state in World Geography.
I was one of the first to be enrolled in what was then
called Tele-learning. It was a Fine Arts
Class. We met during lunch. It was being broadcast from NSU all around
the state, and coming to us over the satellite.
It was being beamed not only to us, but to other schools all around the
state. We had a TV, microphones, and a
pad we could write on. Information appeared
on a big TV screen of what we were to take notes on. It was the for runner of an online
class. We could talk back and forth to
the teacher at NSU my pressing the button on the microphone, but we were
discouraged from talking to the other students.
My favorite thing to do was to talk an old boy from Oberlin. He sounded like a trucker and was often hard
to understand.
So I was smart, funny, being bullied, depressed, often
suicidal, being told I was fat by those who loved me, told on a daily basis I
was crazy, and very, very lonely. Now I
come from a different error my young friends.
Girls did not ask boys out, or so I was told. If you did so you were very forward. You had to wait until a boy liked you and
told you so. That was not part of my
world. I came home at night and talked
to Sonya on the phone, helped mom with her homework, did mine, read, often
cooked dinner and did chores, some nights I covered up my father with a blanket
in his chair, after he had fallen asleep watching TV from drinking too much,
and at the end of many, many days walked in my room, closed the door and wept. Yes I was very, very lonely.
I watched in jealousy as others around me feel in love, had
sex, got pregnant, and seemed to be having a grand time of life. I am sure all of them had their problems
though. Sometimes I watched as a boy I
had a crush on, dated another girl. If I
was asked out, it was always as a joke.
Now you have to remember, in a class of 47, there were only 26 boys, 13
of them white, I was not allowed to date non whites. No Blacks, No Indians, and No Chicano’s was
my father’s rules. He added no welders
to that list a little later. Of those 13
white males in my class, 4 were my bullies.
Of the remaining 9 or so who could potential date in my class, most of
them had girlfriends in other towns or schools.
So to say the pickins were slim I think is accurate. And to tell you the truth, I think most men
were turned off by me because of my brain and my reputation for being crazy. If the word “Nerd” had existed in my day, I
am quite sure I would have identified myself that way. Sad but true.
I even went stag to
my Jr. Prom. My parents chaperoned. Most people showed up drunk and I remember
dancing with a bunch of guys in a group and smelling liquor all over them. The only slow dance was with my dad. I would not go to my Senior Prom because of
the whole Brett incident.
Ilsa
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