You’re not Living Up to Your Potential, Young Man.

Here is my response to the Share Your World challenge

1. Do you remember your first teacher at school? Of course, I do! How can I forget the woman who introduced me to nap time on a blue and red mat with white trim? Looking back, It seems I was destined to sleep on the ground on a foam mat, much thinner I might add. In the military, I didn’t sleep when I was supposed to either. Despite this, my first teacher was pretty cool. She visited me in the hospital after my gymnast attempt fiasco.
2. What was your best and worst subjects? I can’t remember my best subject I pretty much sucked at all of them. I do remember being bored for most of grade school. However, there were a few high points. The Monarch butterfly and acting out plays. There was a girl who was stupid smart who always would read a book and turn it into a play. I think we were in the third grade. She is probably some famous playwright or something. I’d look her up if I could just remember her name. Susie, Blanche, Mara, none of those sound right. I’m going to chuck that one into the L column.
3. Were you encouraged in class or did you just muddle along? Of course, I was encouraged I went to a great school. However, I did muddle along. This is when I heard the statement that followed me for the rest of my academic career. “Young man, you are working at your potential.” Nearly every teacher either said it to my mother’s face, which by the way were dark times for me, or wrote on my report card. My mother worked her butt off. Here I was playing around in school. I had one job, you know?
4. Would you like to be a student today? I pretty much have outgrown a good portion of my shenanigans, however, I still pepper a bit of high jinxes for flavor. I wouldn’t want anyone who knew me back then to think I’m reformed or something. One of my teachers attended one of my lectures, years ago. She waited until after I finished and came up to me. She had this expression that mixed with confusion and pride all at once. She asked if I was the little that gave her such a hard time in english class. I was taken back by the question. I was lecturing somewhere other than my hometown so I wasn’t expecting someone to actually know me.
   
   She was an older version of herself. She hadn’t put weight and looked rather striking for her age. I smiled and nodded. She hugged me and we had coffee. I started going on about Gordon Weaver and she rolled right with me. Then the phone came out and it was picture time. Children, grandchildren, and have you been occupied the remainder of our conversation. As she left, she paused and looked back, and told me she always believed in me. Then she turned and walked away.
   
   If I had believed in myself, perhaps, it wouldn’t have taken me so long to get things going in the right direction.