On the Periphery

 

Although I have a lot of self confidence, am not afraid of speaking to large groups, I do not like being the center of attention.  So, getting teacher of the year, having to stand on a stage in front of an audience, listening to speeches about me and then having to shake hands with everyone had the opposite effect my colleagues intended.  They wanted to recognize me, thank me, but I just wanted to fade into the background.    I prefer being the "worker bee" who sees that everyone is seated comfortably, has the program,  a warm beverage and feels welcome.. I prefer being on the edge where I can slip out of the room when overwhelmed by too many people, too much noise, too much chaos.

Call it ADHD, enochlophobia or agoraphobia.  I call it needing to feeling safe, calm, with no anxiety.  I recently learned that others in our family have this anxiety, too. We are not afraid of flying in an airplane, not afraid of travel, not afraid of enclosed spaces, but the chaos of a crowd over-stimulates us and causes anxiety.  If I sit with my back to the crowd and can look out a window, I can feel the tension in my shoulders relaxing.  If I can sit on an aisle seat with an easy escape, I can enjoy the concert, the play, but seat me in the middle, I feel trapped and do not enjoy the experience.

Sometimes even watching an event on TV, makes me uncomfortable.  Watching the Chief's parade on television celebrating their Super Bowl victory created such anxiety, I had to go outside and walk around.  All I could see were a lot of young people (including two grandchildren) unsupervised, getting more and more ramped up and no one was attempting to get them under control.  Sadly, it came as no surprise to me that there was a shooting with a young mother being killed.

This is not something recent---it's not the result of being immune suppressed or isolated from covid.  I recall back to my childhood and it was always there.  My sister remembers with great joy going to parades and circuses with our family.  Those parades and circuses with excited people crowding around just made me want to go home.  I enjoyed the circuses once we got to our seats, but the anxiety of walking in a crowd to find the seats or staying with my family as we made our way to the car far eclipsed any joy I had.

The ability to slip in and out of a situation is also important.  As a child I often went with my class to the symphony.  Although I loved getting dressed up and going to the symphony, listening while sitting in a much too big seat for my short legs was another problem.  I'd slip out of my seat, tell my teacher I was going to the bathroom but really I was going to the back of the theater where I found my comfort space.  Instead of my poor legs dangling in a seat, I was standing and dancing in the back of the room thoroughly enjoying the concert because I could move and didn't feel "trapped".

I was in several plays in high school and college, but never wanted a starring role.  To audition for the plays in high school, we all had to read the "starring" roles.  I was so nervous when I kept being called back to read---it was down to just 3 of us for the starring role that I didn't want (Emily Webb)  I wanted a lesser role (Rebecca Gibbs) because it was less stress, a lot more fun and the attention wasn't really on me.  I was probably the only person that prayed for a lesser role.  Performing on a stage as Rebecca was different from being the star.  I could perform on stage because I had the "support" of friends and I was never center stage.

So, I think of myself as "Girl on the Periphery"---on the fringe of a crowd, in the supporting role of a play, and setting up chairs for a meeting: with an easy escape, within the company of friends and welcoming the new-comers. It's the role I feel comfortable with.

 

Lesson:  Know yourself.  Know your limitations.  Find strategies to unknot those anxieties.

Upon reading The Only Woman in the Room

 Book Club here at McCrite read and discussed two similar books:  Fast Girls about the 1936 Women's Olympic Track team and The Only Woman in the Room about Hedy Lamarr, movie star and inventor.  The theme was similar---women struggling to break through that "glass ceiling" allowing them to be successful in a male dominated world.

The discussion here was a little like a therapy session---many of us giving examples of hitting that "glass ceiling" and with some of us breaking it.  The most disturbing story was from Marsha who told us she was a twin.He was always put ahead of her:  she got used to taking a back seat.  Marsha celebrated her 90th birthday that same week with a party.  Her daughter filled us in on more details.  When the twins were born, they only weighted about 5 lbs together.  Marsha was literally pushed aside with all care and attention going to her brother to ensure his survival----not hers.

Anita told of several generations of men in her family who encouraged her, her grandmother and her daughter to compete in a "men's world".  Her daughter as a child said she wanted to go to Harvard Law School like her father, and they never discouraged her despite Harvard not allowing women to attend school there.  By the time her daughter was old enough to apply, they were accepting females students.

My story was somewhere in between Marsha's and Anita's.  First I wanted to be a farmer, but my grandmother said, "how about a farmer's wife?"  Then in high school "career day", I signed up to learn about the FBI, walked in the room and was told, "there are no females in the FBI."  I felt belittled, embarassed and angry.  It wasn't about the FBI, but being told I couldn't do something.  So, instead I chipped away at that glass ceiling trying to prove I could compete equally.  By my senior year, I was president of International Club, Museum Club and Church Youth Group.  I tied my friend Randy for the number of organizations we were president of and that felt good.

I started college wanting to be a pastor.  I majored in English, German and minored in history to prepare myself for seminary.  I knew women went to seminary---one of our youth directors was Judith Craig, a student at Eden Seminary.  What I didn't know was, women could go to seminary, take classes, but they were "ordained" as Christian Educators and not pastors.  I'd led the youth group at church, been on the Board, preached sermons, taught Bible School but that wasn't enough because I was a female.  So, I shut that door and decided to be a public school English/German teacher. 

I've always been pretty good at making lemonade when life handed me lemons.   I couldn't go to seminary, but how about trying out for that exchange program my college had with Memmingen, Germany. In the past, the candidates had only been male college graduates but I was a female undergraduate.  The exchange student sent that year had been a brilliant student of German, but socially he had failed miserably in Germany. They were looking for someone more social and out-going---not someone who sat in his room, studied and read.  Would I interact with my students? Would I be willing to speak before groups of adults? Would I try to make my lessons interesting for the students?  Yes, yes, yes. If I was an undergraduate, then I couldn't go to the University in Munich and I couldn't have a Fulbright Scholarship as the previous recipients had.  I was OK with all of that.  So, off I went:  the first female and the first undergraduate exchange student to Memmingen. Chipping away at that glass ceiling.

Later I married, had three lovely daughters but others were also chipping away at the glass ceiling, too.  Doors and careers were opening up.  Women could be lawyers, Presbyterian pastors, business women not just teachers, nurses, stewardesses and secretaries.  I'd been very active at church, chaired a pastor search committee, been Sunday School Superintendent, written curriculum, given workshops, but then I was asked to be an elder on Session.  I loved teaching not ruling.  Yes, I'd had leadership positions but it was no longer something I craved.  I looked at my three daughters, stood up straight and became an elder so they could see women could do this.  After a year on session, I was elected Clerk of Session (the lay leader), a job I really did not want, but felt like I needed to take on.  I was the first female Clerk of Session at St. Mark Presbyterian.  Others had been asked and turned it down, but I didn't think I would be a very good role model for my daughters if I turned my back on being the lay leader of our church.   Chipping away.

After serving as an elder on Session, my daughters were getting older so I needed to start thinking about going back to work but felt like I needed to go back to college to brush up my skills.  A mom that I volunteered with at Henry School was talking about going to Eden Seminary.  I perked up thinking maybe I could be that pastor after all.  I prayed, I thought, I made lists of pros and cons and decided to keep that door shut.  My family and my daughters meant a lot to me.  If I became a pastor, they would suffer----the timing was not right.  I wanted us to continue worshipping as a family and not have them go to St. Mark (where their friends were) while I pastored another church.  I knew I could do it, but did I really want to do that to my family?

There comes a time when focused goals become less important than the big picture.  I did go back to school to brush up on my skills and got a master's in reading.  I started subbing in the schools where my daughters attended which was a pretty easy transition (basically I was being paid to do things I'd been volunteering to do before). The extra money helped pay for my tuition.  I eventually was hired as a part-time teacher, part-time aide in reading and English as Second Language:  the transitions were smooth with hardly a ripple in our family time. By the time I was finished with graduate school, Rebecca was off to college and I applied for full-time teaching positions:  German, Reading, English as Second Language.  I don't regret any of my decisions:  I'd helped other women, helped my family and was able to grow.

Recently, I was cleaning out some files and found my passport from 1972.  Remember, I'd been to Germany for a year on a passport issued in 1967.  But this 1972 passport really made me sit back and take a deep breath.  I hadn't fully realized how far we've come until I saw it.  Grandpa has his full name, birthdate, birthplace, a description of how he looked and I had "Jaclyn"  that's all--not even my full name.  Anyone seeing that passport would have thought, I had been nothing more than a spouse tagging along like a dutiful little woman. I'd planned the trip (Grandpa had never been to Europe), I spoke the language and had to do all of the speaking, translating, purchasing.  I had been in charge of the entire trip but my passport said I was "Jaclyn".

THAT is the reason for this message to my granddaughters----Marsha, Anita, thousands of women and I have worked very hard to give you your life, your choices, your freedom.  PLEASE, do not forget that glass ceiling was chipped away by some very determined women.  Don't forget.

The fight is not over---the Glass Ceiling still exists.  Caitlin Clark, basketball phenom.  She is expected to earn $76,000 as #1 female rookie in professional basketball compared to her male counterpart who will earn between 7 and 11 million dollars.  The NCAA women's tournament had more viewers than the men's tournament and yet, the women's programs got far less money. (click here)

Lessons:  Don't be afraid to stretch yourself but also don't be afraid to step back and say, "this is not the right time, the right place for me right now." 

Pray for help and guidance.  Listen for answers.

Encourage other women---don't tear them down.  Even if you disagree with them and don't like them. If they are working to make a better world for you, your children and grandchildren, thank them. 

Upon reading Tom Lake

 I picked up the novel Tom Lake by Anne Patchet and was hooked immediately.  It started out with a young high school student auditioning for Our Town but she's telling the story to her three daughters now in their 20s.  And this is after reading My Grandmother Says She's Sorry by Frederick Backman with a Grandmother sending her granddaughter messages to deliver after her death to people who will fill in Grandmother's back story.  And this after Libby sending me a text message wanting to know more about my romantic past.

So, now I'm up at 3:30 AM can't sleep because I can't turn my brain off.  Maybe now that Libby is 17 and Anna 14, NOW is the time to tell some stories.  But where to begin.  Then I realized I'd begun with a post about being 14-15 years old and meeting my future husband. (click here)

So to continue that story. . . . .I was not at all interested in Dave Morgan.  He was too old (18),  too handsome and "stuck up".  My friend Hilda was aflutter after meeting him and I just looked at her and said, "His older brother is more my type---not as handsome, much friendlier and he has warm eyes."  

I was simply not interested in dating or having a boy friend---I really didn't see  much point in it.  I was interested in having fun in larger groups like our church youth fellowship, flirting but backing away---staying focused on being "successful" in school by being in clubs, being recognized as a leader, getting in National Honor Society.  I was going to go to college ( being the first female in my family) and had no interest in "relationships" other than friendship in a more brotherly kind of way.

Meanwhile, my friendships in high school began to shift.  My "girlfriends" were starting to be more interested in boys than I was. And they were getting very "catty" putting other girls down.  I hated that. I was interested in being part of the crowd and going to all of the dances---with or without a date.  Dancing was the point of  a "Dance", right?  I gradually found myself pulling away from my girlfriends and actually aligning myself with many of my "boy" friends or "brothers" which is how I thought of them. They were supportive, intelligent, funny and I was happier being with them than the anxiety of my "girl friends"

By our Senior year, my "brothers" were beginning to be interested in a group of girls a year younger than we were.  I knew several of them from church and dance club, so I tagged along to the parties.  As a group we called ourselves the "yo-yos" which described us perfectly---the ups and downs of adolescence.  (Uncle Harry Provost was part of this group before he and Aunt Jane met) I became such a part of the group, they somehow forgot I was a year older and invited me to their 50th reunion where I had a great time catching up with them.  In retrospect I wonder if I should have been in their grade.  

I started Kindergarten in January after I turned 5 in November.  St. Louis Public Schools had two classes a year for graduation, also.   The problem was moving to St. Louis County where they had only Fall enrollment.  What to do with those of us who only finished half of third grade---should we repeat it or push ahead.  Many of us were pushed ahead so I graduated from high school at 17 (not turning 18 until November of my freshman year of college).  So, although I was smart enough to not "miss" that half of third grade, I might now have been mature enough.  

There were several advantages to being pushed ahead in school.  One was I was not a "baby boomer"---that huge group of babies born after the war.  The enormous population bubble caused problems with the schools which didn't have room for all of the children.  So, I had a less stressful school situation being in a smaller class.  The second advantage was I had "flexibility" which I later used in college to "take a year off" college to live in Germany.  But, as a teenager, I probably would have been happier with the group of friends a year younger.

My Friend Hilda

It was after Sunrise Service and we were all standing on the church parking lot/cemetary at Bellefontaine Methodist Church. The Morgan Family were at the worship service. Tom, the youngest son was our friend and the motherk, Eloise was the librarian at the school where I was a Freshman (Riverview Gardens) We introduced ourselves and the older brother Harry, smiled, made eye contact but the middle brother Dave looked right through us. . . . That didn't stop Hilda from fluttering her eyelashes and swooning after the meeting. . . . I was not impressed, Dave was very handsome, but I did not appreciate his attitude. That first meeting might have tainted my feelings about Dave Morgan when I met him the second, third, fourth and fifth times: very handsome but "stuck up". I'm sure Hilda never thought I'd actually marry Dave 11 years later.

We lost touch in college, but Hilda did know we married. I always felt a little guilty since she had "dibs" on him in 1960. On April 8, 2024, Hilda has been gone for 30 years. I still miss and remember her. RIP

Have you ever had a friend who would talk you into doing things you would have never done on your own? My friend Hilda really wanted to meet Dave Morgan who was President of his Senior Class at Hazelwood where she was a Freshman.