A briefly proud moment… chosen as our school contestant for the city-wide school spelling bee. I remember sitting on the stage amongst the rows of desks. I remember looking out at the audience. I remember the rules: when a word was called, we were to write it down; once gathered and checked, those who were incorrect would be called and asked to leave the stage. I remember “canoe”. Easy. There may have been others. But then came “urge” and a panic settling in on me. “Urge”. I knew the word. I knew I didn’t know how to spell it. I pencilled “earge” but I knew it was wrong. I remember the embarrassment when my name was called, then the walk down the steps to where my parents sat. It didn’t traumatize me for life but it surely was a disappointment.

A shameful moment… During that same year, I believe, I didn’t finish an assignment and I knew it was sitting at home. I remember my teacher standing at the front of the room, saying she was missing one and since no one had admitted it was theirs, she’d call out each student’s name until the culprit was left seated. Our class was large (they all were then) and I remember the dread listening to each name and wondering how to avoid disgrace. I remember the moment when I… just rose from my seat… and… and… no one did a thing. What? How? Nothing more came of it.  Not from the students. Not from the teacher. Who knows why? It didn’t set me on a criminal’s path, but I sure remember the feelings.