A Sense of Pride

I was not beaten, I was stung by a wasp in the eye.

My 10th grade research paper was titled "Child Abuse: Bruising a Nation". I still have a habit of using wordplay at the most inappropriate times. In fact, I wrote a lot of apology e-mails to TAs in college, ensuring them that my writing style should in no way affect how seriously they thought I was about the course. That was a big hurdle in a class I will call Serious Things About WWII. Luckily my TA was Australian, so quite distanced from any personal ties to the subject matter. I think Australia was still a penal colony then.

Back to the kids. 

I chose the topic because child abuse is the one thing that makes me angrier than all anger-inducing things. I can't understand how an adult could ever hurt a kid. I see a child cry and all I want to do is adopt them. A lot of my trying-to-impress-someone career goals through adolescence involved pediatric something. Point being: kids are precious and I'm a really selfless human being. 

But that's not so great for the blog. Here's what's good for the blog:

Before writing my research paper, I had read that opening with a quote was a really writery thing to do. I was all over that. I opened my paper with this:

Whitney Houston once said, "I believe that children are our future." 

I masterfully dispersed the following lyrics throughout. After turning in the first draft, it was returned with a red circle around the initial quote with the note "NO". 

The conversation that resulted went like this:

Me: What do you mean "NO"?

Teacher: Whitney Houston did not say that. 

Me: I'm pretty sure she did. It's a really well known Whitney Houston song. 

Teacher: Yeah, but she didn't write the song.

Me: But she said the words. 

Teacher: But she didn't write them.

Me: But it's a quote and she said them. Well, sang them. 

Teacher: You have to give credit to the originator. 

Me: Who's that?

Teacher: Whoever wrote the song.

Me: But nobody knows who that is. I can't open my paper with a quote from nobody. Who wants to read that?

Teacher: I do. I'm the only person reading this paper. 

Wrong answer. Once I realized this paper was only being read by this dude, my shits given hit zero. What good were we doing the children if only this dude was reading it?

Whitney stayed in. But I did meet him halfway and cited Michael Masser and Linda Creed in the bibliography. 

My parents had been warned by my sister's junior year English teacher that this sophomore year guy would challenge me. I hadn't seen a minus next to my A's since 2nd grade. That Whitney maybe-not-her-quote (combined with a following comparison of happenings in To Kill a Mockingbird with the Nelly/Alicia Keys hit "My Boo") would earn my first ever B+. 

Don't worry, I still ended up a valedictorian. But I have to give credit to that teacher. I inadvertently learned a lot through my arrogant dismissal of his power.

1. B+s do exist. 

2. Challenging authority should be reserved for much more important causes than a 16 year old's pride.

3. There are really great lessons to be learned from To Kill a Mockingbird 
4. Seriously, 16 year olds are assholes. 

5. Nothing I could ever write will trump quoting Whitney Houston in an attempt to end child abuse.

I think he also taught me irregardless was not a word, making irregardless my favorite word that year. 

I was the future then, and he taught me well. He let me lead the way. The dude probably doesn't even remember who I am now, but every time I write, I remember him. It reminds me that I want my audience to feel something when they read my writing, even if that feeling is my own petulance. He probably doesn't remember me, but if he does, I hope its because I taught him something. Something about the greatest love of all.

You can't keep a Diva down,

TJB: Making It