Truth

People are always telling me that they want to hear the truth but when they do, they don't really want it. On the other hand, telling someone what your truth is could be very different from what their truth is. We all look at things from a different perspective.

When I first moved to Wisconsin, Loren invited two single-male teachers out to our house at the lake for an enchilada dinner. (Because we couldn't get enchiladas in Wisconsin at that time, I had to learn how to make them along with refried beans. It was one of our favorite meals.) The two gentlemen were practice teaching at the local high school.

While we were eating, I heard both of them talking about not going into teaching after this year was over. Thinking it was because of the students, I asked them what they were going to do and they both had plans. Why were two really creative teachers not going to continue teaching? They told me that they were not allowed to teach the way that they wanted to. One young man said that his supervising teacher didn't like anything that he did. As an example, he asked the students to stand up by their desks to view something. Then he had them kneel down next to their desk to view the same thing. He said that he was trying to teach the truth about perspective but his supervisor came down on him royally. Here was a loss for the school systems because these two guys would have brought fun and interest and mystery and truth to classrooms of the future.

Truth, isn't something that is really wanted. How about "saying something nice to others?" Now here is one that can really get you into trouble. "That dress makes you look_______." (Fill in the blank.) Are you going to mention that the color is right or that it makes her look fat? Just how are you going to get around the truth?

We all have our secrets. Some of us have more than others. For instance, my husband cannot keep a secret. If I don't want the whole world to know something, I either tell him not to say anything or I make sure that he doesn't knows about it. "The fudge is NOT for the party."

Growing up in my family, we were always supposed to tell the truth. Sometimes that meant taking the punishment for what had happened, but I learned that the truth can get you into real trouble.

When I was in fifth and sixth grade we had a wonderful teacher. Everyone in our class just loved her. She got married and then became pregnant and had to quit in the middle of our sixth year. So our class got a substitute teacher for the rest of the year.

When I think back, I am not sure just why none of the kids liked her, but it was very obvious that they didn't. They wouldn't do anything that she said. The class got out of control a lot and she would cry when this happened. So every day she would ask one student to stand up and tell her why the kids wouldn't mind her. Everyone said that they didn't know. About four weeks into this, it was my turn.

Now up until this time, I had a very good relationship with my classmates. We would go to birthday parties at each other's houses and I even went over to their houses after school. But "My turn" changed all of that.

When I stood up there and she asked me why the kids wouldn't mind her, I said that it was because they didn't like her.

If they could have sent bolts of lighten to killed me at that time, I wouldn't be writing this.

Only one person in that room would play with me at recess. The two of us would talk about all sorts of things…That is until Valentine's Day was coming. Then the class asked the teacher if she would leave the room so that they could have a meeting and they asked my friend and me to leave too. We knew that they were planning to give our teacher a Valentine's Day present. It was a way of proving that what I said was not the truth. (I guess in a way, I united this class even if I became the target.) So my friend and I decided to make something for the teacher ourselves. We both knew how to crochet so we made look-alike doilies. We did a rather nice job at it too but after that project together, my friend didn't want to be left out anymore. (I couldn't really blame her. In high school she went on to became one of the top cheerleaders.)

It was a lonely spring. I remember playing on the playground with some marbles all by myself. When the snow started to melt, I made creeks of water in the cracks of the snow. I would stand by the building sometimes and watch everyone playing. Those three months until summer vacation were very long.

It was the beginning of learning that I was different. Learning that I could survive alone. Learning that people really don't want to know the truth.

As luck would have it, in Seventh grade all the country school seventh graders were bused to town and we had a lot of new people that didn't know that I was the one that had spoken out to our substitute teacher.

I am sure that this was in my school record because I had a lot of teachers in seventh grade that were very nice to me.

One of them asked if I would like to come down to the science room twice a week during study hall and water the plants there. I liked doing that. It gave me a chance to be by myself, without anyone else around. Maybe I was getting used to being with just me? (Perhaps it was that beginning of my love of plants. I did taste the drops that Impatiens create on the ends of their leaves. It is sugar sweet.)

In English class we took a test and I got the highest grade on the Dewey Decimal System so I got to work in the library putting books back in their places. Both of these took me out of the routine that everyone else had.

It is funny how one thing can change things for a very long time. Even getting to know a lot of new kids, I still never felt good enough after that. That feeling lasted for a very long time. If you have read the story about my teen years you know that in one sense, I never got over that set back until I graduated from High School. Even now at the reunions, I really don't know those people. I had very little in common with them then and now. I found out that I do like to be by myself and I do feel good about me.

It isn't just the people I went to school with, it is everyone who professes to want the truth but in reality, they don't.

Take a court of law, how much truth is allowed to be expressed? The jury is asked to make a decision based on only what is expressed and then they don't get the whole truth. It is based on how and what questions are asked? Don't tell us all about it, just answer Yes or No. We don't really want to know what happened.

Truth is very interesting. It is molded and stretched and colored to fit the occasion. I am very careful to give facts today. My students expect me to tell them the truth and I do but I make sure of my facts when I do this. I still have a hard time being social but I work at it. Most of the time I still find myself standing alone even in a crowd being the observer.

I remember thinking that having a mate or partner would change that feeling but most of what I have done, has been alone. I wish to make exception of what I have just said, because my sisters have been there for me more than anyone else in the world. They have accepted all my insecurities and oddities. I guess that is my truth.