December 8, 2005

Unfortunately, I never knew that much about my parents.  I'll discuss the depressing details some other time, but one fact I do remember is that my mother worked with handicapped children.  Specifically, the mentally retarded.  Even as a boy I felt a sense of pride for her kind heart and sacrifices.

I recall a time during my tragic beginnings when I once again found myself being placed into an unfamiliar elementary school.  Changing locations had occurred so often that I was now numb to the process.  The young teacher greeted me with a warm smile and asked the fourth grade class to say hello to the new student.  They did, in an unenthusiastic chant.  It was always the same.  The teacher then bent down so that her blue eyes were close to mine and asked if I would tell the class a little bit about myself.  I felt that the tragedies that had jackhammered through my recent life were too private to share, so I decided to tell the class something about my mother.  Truth be told, I was too shy to speak directly to the entire class, so I spoke to the teacher in a voice loud enough for the class to hear.  After only one sentence, the entire fourth grade burst into laughter.  The teacher turned her head slightly so that the stare she had locked into my eyes was now at an angle.  With an uneven grin, she asked me to take a seat.

What had I done wrong?  Did my voice sound funny?  Was there something stuck between my teeth?

Jump ahead to college.  While studying late one evening in the common lounge with my peers, when we took an unscheduled coffee break.  To relieve some tension for the morning exam that awaited us, some of my friends began telling sympathetic yet humorous stories from their past.  In a break of silence, I spoke of my incident in the fourth grade and how I never figured out why they laughed at me.

"All I said was that my mother was a retarded teacher."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I got it.  All of those years, I had never replayed the incident in my head.  How many other incidents of life did I not get, simply because I missed the right perspective?

Once again, everyone laughed.  The difference was that this time, I was laughing too.