Acceptance

This is my first essay for the Walkerton Writers group I recently joined....I was stuck on what to write about once we were given our topic.  It played around in my mind for several days.  On a Friday night I was watching a Dateline segment on teenage girls who are bullies.  That's when the urge to write hit and off I went!

Topic:  I Have Never Wanted Anything So Badly

March 2011

Acceptance

I stood in the doorway of the big room looking in at 25 kids with 25 sets of eyes staring back at me.  Once again, I was the new kid in school.  As a fifth grader, this was the third elementary school I had attended.  My teacher, Mrs. Draper, announced to the class, “Boys and girls, this is Sandy Gusky and I would like you to make her feel comfortable in our class.”

I felt anxious and scared, but hopeful that I would make new friends.  Mrs. Draper took me to my desk where books were stacked on top.  The girl who sat behind me, Cami Hamilton, kicked my desk and all of my books fell to the floor.  I heard her and some of the others snicker at me.  As I quietly picked up the books, I felt humiliated, as if I didn’t belong.  I never wanted anything so badly.  I wanted to be accepted by the kids at school, especially the girls.

I enjoyed the academic part of school and I made good grades.  But, socially I didn’t fit in with the popular crowd.

When I was young, my grandma sewed dresses for me.  Even though they were quite pretty, they were not what I wanted to wear to school.  I wanted to wear jeans with clogs and a sweater like all the other girls.  Whenever I donned a new dress, the cashier in the lunch line would “ooh and aah” and the other ladies would gather around to eye my grandmother’s handiwork.  It was embarrassing because the other kids were watching and I knew I would be teased about it later in the day.  It always happened that way.

For Christmas that year I got a pair of brown, leather clogs.  I was so excited that I wore them to school every day – even in the snow.  But as much as I loved them, they didn’t help me make more friends. 

Towards the end of fifth grade, our principal, Mr. Hartman, came to our social studies class and announced, “I need three girls to run the school book store next year.  They will have to be reliable and know how to handle money.”

We all raised our hands and I was praying to myself, pick me, pick me.  He selected two other girls, Kim and Sherry, and then when it looked like my chance had passed, he chose me!  I was so happy and felt so grown up, because I knew this responsibility had been given to me because I could do it.

Though the other two girls were in my class, I hadn’t talked to them before.  They were shy like me and not part of the ‘in’ crowd.  At lunch I made it a point to sit by Kim.  We started talking and I found out she was a very nice girl.  I couldn’t wait to start working with her.  I believed she was someone I could be friends with, but after lunch, one of girls called me ‘teacher’s pet’.  It hurt my feelings, but I didn’t care because I had been chosen for an important job by Mr. Hartman.

The next year in sixth grade, things didn’t get much better.  Mr. Reutman, my social studies teacher, allowed me to grade quizzes and enter the scores into his grade book.  But whenever we went outside for recess, I got teased for it and because of that there were many days I spent alone on the playground.

One day, a girl who was part of the ‘in’ crowd, DeDe Coyle, approached me.  We started to talk and from that point on, she and I would hang out together on the playground.  We played on the swings and kept each other’s secrets.  During the rest of my time in elementary school, she was the one true friend I had.

When summertime rolled around, DeDe talked me into signing up for girls’ softball.  I had played whiffle ball with my brother, but never on an organized team.  On practice days, she came to my house and we walked to the softball field together.  I was excited until I saw the other girls on the team.  It was the group of popular girls from school, including Cami, the one who kicked my desk on the first day of the fifth grade.  The only person out of the whole group who said anything to me was Shawna Cleary’s dad and he hollered, “Head out to right field and show us what you’ve got!”

He hit some balls to me, but I didn’t catch any of them.  Nobody taught me how to catch pop-up balls.  He hit a few grounders to me too, but I didn’t do so well on those either.  I don’t know who said it, but I heard someone mutter, “She’s not any good.”

I wanted to quit, but my mom never let my quit anything once I had started it.  It was all about following through on commitments.  I hated going to practice and I detested going to the games because I knew I would mess up and let my teammates down.  In their own way, they showed me that they didn’t want me to be there.  The never cheered for me and instead said, “Oh, she’s up to bat-we’ll get an out.”  I had no self confidence that summer and I couldn’t wait for it to be over.

Summertime turned into autumn and as the leaves began to fall, I started junior high school.  I knew a lot of the kids because of all the elementary schools I attended, but if they recognized me, they sure didn’t act like it.  DeDe and I remained friends and it was comforting to know that I had someone to talk to at school.

In the eighth grade, I met a girl named Tia in civics class.  As we talked, we realized we had band together.  Tia was a unique person - very smart and very talented.  Even though we didn’t have many other classes together, we would write each other notes about who we were in love with and what our plans for the weekend were.  Many times we would go to school dances and hope to be noticed by one of the cute boys.  With Tia and DeDe as friends, for the first time in my years in school, I felt content.  I still didn’t have designer clothes and I still didn’t fit in with the popular kids.  But I was finally okay with it.

With the start of high school, my life as a teenager changed dramatically.  Band camp had started during the summer before tenth grade and Tia, DeDe, and I attended together since we all decided to join the marching band.  I don’t know how many hours we spent on the field learning how to march and play our instruments, but I remember a lot of fun and laughter.

Camp lasted two weeks at school and when we were done there, we loaded up the buses and went to a camp where we stayed for a week.  The band was large and made the perfect opportunity to meet many new people-which I did.  I began to build friendships with some of the other kids.  I felt like I belonged.  My confidence began to grow and I started to evolve into an outgoing person.

During high school, my social life changed completely.  No longer was I the shy girl in fifth grade standing in the doorway.  Being in the band and getting to know the kids made a difference for me.  That fall it seemed like I spent more time with the band than with my family.  We practiced during the sixth period and then again on Tuesday and Thursday nights.  Since we were the pep band and played during half-time, we had to attend all the Friday night football games.  Saturdays-competition days-were even better.  We would arrive at school by 8:30 in the morning.  We would load the buses after a quick run through of our show and then head out to a competition.  It was an all-day commitment and sometimes we wouldn’t get home until 11:00 pm.  Tia and I always shared a seat and always hung out with the tuba players.

Everybody in the band was outgoing and fun to be around.  We spent so much time with one another that we became a family.  DeDe decided after her sophomore year that she didn’t want to be in the band anymore.  I missed having her around even though we saw each other in the hallways some times.

Towards the end of my senior year, I got burned out being in the marching band.  It had nothing to do with my friends, but the program just wasn’t fun for me anymore.  I was on the verge of graduating and was looking onto bigger things.

Going to college was a huge step for me, but I wasn’t afraid to go.  It was a local college and some of my band friends went there.  Sometimes I would eat lunch with someone I knew from band.  Once I got my electives out of the way, I took classes aimed to my major.  I made some friends in those classes.

My memories of elementary school aren’t great, but it doesn’t linger with me.  I loved high school and college and after it was all said and done, I came away with a feeling of acceptance.  I managed to navigate through the awkward years of school and gain some self-confidence along the way. 

For seventeen years I have now been an elementary school teacher.  On the first day of school I look at all of those eyes looking at me and I think “I can do this.”  I look for the bullies and I look for the kids I know are going to socially need some help in order to develop friendships among their peers.  Because I know where they are coming from, I can help them have acceptance.

The Choice

The Choice

By Sandra Williams

            I have had dogs for nearly all of my life.  For the last twenty years, I have always had a pug dog.  I don’t have any children of my own, so my dogs have been my babies.  There is something about a pug.  Their personalities and facial expressions make you think you are talking to a person when you talk to them.  (Pug dog owners know exactly what I am talking about.) My first pug was Pudge, a fat little guy, who just lived to be loved on.  When he was about three years old, my ex-husband and I decided he needed a friend.  He was lethargic and bored and he lay around all day long waiting for one of us to give him some attention.  That was when Puddin’ came into the picture.  When I got her, she sat in my cupped hands.  She was no bigger than a gerbil, but was just as spunky as could be and she loved Pudge.  I think he just tolerated her.  She had this attitude that said, “I am bad to the bone-don’t mess with me.”   Every morning she would lick Pudge’s ears and drag him around by the wrinkles on his neck.  It had to hurt, but he let her do it.  They were great company and followed me around the house like shadows. 

Pudge died at the age of thirteen of congestive heart failure.  Puddin’ lived to be sixteen years old and died of old age. I was devastated when I lost them.  It was like losing family members.   I mourned for them just as much as I would a family member.  The house felt so empty without them.

I never really got over pain caused by the loss of a dogs I loved so much. Because of this I had no intention of getting another dog for a while.  I eventually wanted to get a puppy, preferably in the summer time because as a teacher I’d have the summers off would have plenty of time to train it. 

About four months after Puddin’ died, I started looking for a breeder.  I came across an establishment named Mountainside Pugs.  As I looked over the website, I found a link to retired pugs.  I clicked on it and saw two females they would no longer use for breeding.  Both dogs were available for adoption.  I started thinking about it and I thought if I were to get an adult dog, I wouldn’t have to worry about housebreaking it.  The seed had been planted and as the week went by, I kept thinking about these two pugs.  I contemplated it long and hard before approaching my husband to see if he was up to having another dog.  His initial response was “no”, so I let it sit for a couple of days and I approached him again.  I explained adult dogs usually don’t find a home because everybody always wants a puppy.  I also let some tears fall as I told him I really wanted one of these dogs.  He caved in and said I could get one, but only one and I had better not come home with both of them.

We had lots of snow during the winter of 2009.  It was December and we had about eight inches of snow on the ground.  The main roads were clear, but in most areas the side roads needed treated.  I had made my plans to drive to Gore, VA where Mountainside Pugs is located.  I’m very stubborn and come hell or high water, I was going to go and get my dog on the day I planned whether there was snow or not – probably not the smartest idea.  My stepdaughter, Bethany, and I left early on a Monday morning.   We were looking at a drive that would take about three hours to complete.  We drove for what seemed like an eternity until we finally made it to our destination.  The breeder was located far off the beaten path and we had specific directions not to drive back to her house she didn’t want us to get stuck in the snow.  We were told to call her and she would come get us in her four-wheel drive.  We made our call and waited.  After about ten minutes we were picked up.  My heart was racing with the anticipation I was feeling.  After talking with her back and forth for about a month, we were finally here and were going to get to meet the pugs.             

We walked into the breeder’s house and there she was.  She was sitting on the floor in the kitchen hiding behind a chair and looking very hesitantly at Bethany and me.  Her name was Ellie and she was just a tiny little thing.  The breeder, Mary, told us about the history of both dogs.  Ellie was the runt of her litter and had been attacked twice by a pack of pug dogs. That is why she alone in the kitchen.  She was very timid and shy, so Bethany and I sat on the floor trying to coax her into coming over to see us.  We sat there for at least an hour and she did finally approach us a couple of times.  When we went into the next room to meet Madison, the other pug I’d read about on their website, she just about knocked us over.  She was very excited and had no inhibitions.  As we played with her, the breeder told us that there was a family with kids who were wanted to take Madison home with them, but since I had already put down a deposit, she was going to let me choose between Madison and Ellie.  Subconsciously, the choice had been made the minute I saw Ellie.  As we played with this crazy dog, I kept sneaking glances over at Ellie.  She was already three years old and nobody had wanted her.  In my heart, I knew she had to come home with us.  My logic said, “Sandy, you drove four hours on snow-covered roads to get a dog and you should get the one without issues.”  I loved the playfulness of Madison but it was also easier to make a decision knowing that a family with kids wanted her.   I talked it over with Bethany because I wanted her to feel as if she was involved in the decision- making.  She confirmed what I already knew-Ellie was coming home with us.

 After we got the paperwork and payment taken care of, we were on our way.  Mary drove us to our car.  I got Bethany and Ellie situated in the back seat so we could head home.  It was a long drive, but more relaxing than our trip up there.  As it was getting late in the day, both of them fell asleep in the backseat.  When we got home, we set up camp in the living room with Ellie’s dog bed and toys.  Ellie took her time and explored her new home before settling in for the first night. 

It has now been a little over a year and Ellie is the queen of her castle.  She is no longer the shy and timid little dog around my family.  She gets nervous when someone comes over to visit, but warms up to them before they leave.  Every morning before she goes out, my husband scatters a handful of Cheerios on the kitchen floor for her.  If he isn’t already up and the bedroom door is open, she will go and wake him up because she expects her Cheerios first thing.  Every night when I go upstairs to watch TV with my husband, she gets a Denta-bone to eat.  I do this out of guilt for leaving her by herself, but my husband insists we keep one part of the house that is hair free and that Ellie will be okay for an hour or two.  She is rewarded with treats for doing her business outside and for going in her crate when it is time for us to leave.  When I make pancakes, she gets a tiny one with a dab of butter and some syrup.  Some people would say she is spoiled rotten, but as my dad says, “Isn’t that what dogs are for?” While I’m am not working full time, I spend most days at home and Ellie is always by my side.  She is great company and I love her very much.