Defining moments in our lives seem to set us on a course. They shape our minds. They form our paradigms. They put us on a path....and all roads go somewhere....
A defining moment in my life. One day, a voice came over the loud speaker...”Andrea Tataryn please report to the Vice-Principle’s office immediately after class”. Fear gripped my heart when I heard those words. What could I possibly have done wrong never mind be punished for? The walk down the halls felt like the green mile. The time to get to the Vice Principle’s office seemed to pass quickly and I could feel beads of sweat forming on my neck. The palms of my hands were moist and my mouth was dry with anticipation. What fate would fall upon me? I scanned my memory desperately trying to remember any offense that I had committed.
Being the withdrawn, socially awkward and shy teenager that I was, I was scared to death to sit in the chair that faced the vice principle. As I arrived at the office, the administrative assistant promptly reported to me that Mr. Fox was expecting me. Mr. Fox, the Vice Principle of my high school, was responsible to manage the discipline of students who were not so savvy with school rules. This was a challenging and unpopular position as my class alone had approximately 230 students in it. And he had a reputation for being strict and scary.
His door was open and I could see him working diligently at his desk. He was a tall slim man with a full head of curly hair and a thick mustache that spread itself across his upper lip. I peeked around the entrance to his office and his attention turned towards me. He invited me in to sit down and closed the door behind me. Sitting down and shuffling my feet nervously under my chair I looked down at the floor. I was not the most assertive teenager and being that my self-worth was virtually non-existent I displayed all the signs of a cast away. I was never picked on in school...well except for that guy in Grade six who called me fat Tat. I wasn’t fat then but his words still resonate in my head. Anyways, I had friends in school and I was slotted into my click within minutes of walking through the front doors of the SCCHS. The drama nerd herd was where I felt most at home and occasionally you could find me joining the skids for a little r and r. This should make it very clear to you that I was not dressed in brand name clothes...or even clothes that fit my body or my age. Regardless, I was in the hot seat now and had no idea why.
Waiting for the principle's words, I anticipated him to sound something like the great and terrifying wizard of Oz. But as he opened his mouth, I realized it was far less dramatic than what all the rumors had whispered about this man. As he said my name, I found my eyes bouncing upward and making eye contact with this authority figure I so passionately feared. “Andrea, I love windmills. I walked past the art room today and noticed a beautiful hand sketched picture of a windmill. May I have your permission to hang it in my office?”. In complete shock, it took me a minute to find some words. Why the heck does he need my permission to hang a picture in his office. As I hesitated, he pulled the sketch out. It had been framed and was nestled safely behind a sheet of glass. Looking closer, I noticed that my signature was on the drawing. A pencil sketch from my grade 10 year....oh yes....a sketch of a windmill taken from a photograph that my Dad had taken. I could hardly believe that he described the sketch as beautiful. Looking at the sketch closely, it was evident to me that I was inexperienced as an artist. It was not beautiful in any sense of the word. I managed to find enough courage to mutter softly, “Sure”. He said thank you and sent me on my way.
Although my response seemed to be small, my heart was moved. My ugly sketch of a windmill taken from a photograph that my now passed away father had taken was now hanging on the wall of the Vice Principle’s office of my school. It was like getting a booster shot of self-worth. It felt amazing. It gave me a wee bit of pride. It is moments like these that have shaped who I am. Sometimes it doesn’t matter who believes in you...it just takes somebody to actually do it.
The gym was GREAT today by the way. I think I may have discovered the best time of day to go....10:30 a.m. No one is using locker 81, there are hardly any people there, I have the weights all to myself and today I could have ran a marathon because I feel so good. Well, a really short marathon...maybe around the block. That counts for something doesn’t it?
No comments:
Post a Comment