My Apologies...

My name is Laura and I am not an alcoholic! However, I am somewhat familiar with the 12 Steps. I believe one of those steps is to apologize for those things you have done that have hurt people in your life. I am going to take this opportunity to do just that. Many of the things for which I am not proud, happened as a child. You would think I could forget these, recognizing my immaturity and developmental stage in life, but I haven’t. We are shaped by our experiences and these are now a part of me. On my quest to improve myself, I feel the need to right some wrongs. What better way than to do it publicly (as if there are really so many people reading this blog!).

I will begin with Stephanie. Stephanie was a girl who lived four houses up from mine. She was the girl no one liked. She was overweight, her hair was long, wavy and greasy, her clothes were stained and dirty, she smelled foul and had a personality to match. Rumors flew around the neighborhood about her mother being a prostitute and of her brother being in and out of jail. The police frequented their home and we all assigned various meanings to this.

At school I remember how mistreated Stephanie was by all of her classmates. She was teased unmercifully. She was called “Step-on-me” along with other choice names. And no one wanted “Stephanie germs”. If she touched you, you got the germs and then someone would have to get the pretend “Stephanie spray” to rid one of contamination. At the drinking fountain where normally there would be two lines formed (one for boys and one for girls), the lines changed. Instead there was the Stephanie line and the one for the other children. No one wanted to drink after her.

Stephanie was not a nice child. In fact, the only physical altercation I had ever been in was with Stephanie…and I was not a willing participant. She did not like that I had a friend (she wanted to be the only one) so she chased me home from school and when she caught me, she grabbed my hair and swung me around to the ground. I still remember the sound of the hairs ripping from my head. But I was not the only one who experienced her wrath. She cussed at other children, spit at them, punched and kicked them…

I was not always mean to Stephanie. In fact, I think the social worker in me has been present since I was very young. I tried several times to be friends with her. Another girl in the neighborhood and I would invite Stephanie over to play, do her hair, and tried in a sensitive way to tell her to shower. We would counsel her on how to make friends and treat them well. But whatever we tried, it seems that every effort was sabotaged in one way or another.

As I child, I didn't recognize what was happening in her home. I didn’t know that she was abused by her brother and sometimes had to jump out of the bathroom window to escape his beatings. I didn’t know that her mother had a substance abuse problem. I didn’t know what was happening to her behind the bedroom doors. I didn’t know these things until I was an adult. Some of these things I figured out on my own from my work with abused children and their reactions to abuse. Some of these things she told me directly when we ran into each other as adults. She shared with me how painful her childhood was…how she was abused not only at home but also by her peers at school and in the neighborhood.

Stephanie, I am deeply sorry for your experiences and for any participation I had in your abuse. I hurt for the childhood you had and wish I could’ve made it different for you, even though I was only a child myself. I know it does not help you now, but you have forever affected my life. I became a social worker to help children like you. I became an adoption specialist to help create the most educated, caring families so children won’t be treated like you were. And I teach my children about you…and other children like you. We talk about their classmates at school who are picked on, singled out, or those who abuse or bully their peers. We discuss the importance of treating all people with love and respect and to recognize that some of the most seemingly difficult children are children who are dealing with issues at home. I am grateful for the lesson but wish the lesson learned was not because of your experiences. I hope you have found happiness.

Moving on…Ms. Oster, my seventh grade history teacher…I am sorry I cheated in your class. I remember the day it happened and how horrible I felt. I went into Mrs. Gunnings room and tried so hard to pretend that I didn’t care…I didn’t want the other kids to know that it affected me so much. The next day you told me that you were watching me and based on what you saw, you didn’t think that I felt any remorse. You were so wrong…I think you might owe me an apology for that one! Because it did affect me and I spent the rest of the year trying to prove that I was trustworthy, whether you knew that or not. I have to say that this experience definitely shaped who I am. To this day, I wouldn’t dream of using someone else’s work to get ahead and the thought of losing someone’s trust makes my stomach turn. May every child get caught cheating at least once!

To Laura, my neighbor…I have to confess that I stole a Corey Hart poster from your bottom drawer. He was my idol and I loved him and believed all of his pictures belonged to me! I was even in his fan club! And I am not ashamed to admit that I still wear my sunglasses at night!!!!

Danny, I am sorry I hit you with my car. This is another experience I will never forget…the sound of the thud and the shattering of my windshield. I really thought I killed you! I know I didn't do any permanent damage but that day still haunts me. I guess we both learned from our mistakes. To this day, I still drive slowly in parking lots and I am sure you now know a little more about speed, distance and reaction time!

To the owner of the nursery on Lindbergh…I am sorry my friends and I stole your butt sign. It created a wonderful memory but it was wrong. I would pay for it if you were still in business.

Steve, the rumor starter…I am so sorry that we dumped 20 bags of leaves into your treeless yard. Wait…I am not sorry for that! I only hope that your parents made you spend your entire Saturday cleaning it up.

T.Y....I am sorry I never wore the necklace you gave me. I was young...stupid...and thought that if I wore it, it would give you the wrong idea. I regret that I wasn't more appreciative. I think I might still have the necklace, though.

To that bicyclist the other day...I didn't mean to give you a scare. You were in my blind spot but thankfully I didn't complete my turn and run you over like I did Danny!

Mike...I am so sorry about all the things I have thrown away that were yours. :-) Actually, this is something I'm not too sorry about...you don't even know what those things are...I don't remember either. But be thankful...I have not yet thrown away your favorite T-shirt. I WILL do that someday and I bet you won't even notice that either!

And to all the other people to whom I might owe an apology...I am sorry and I hope that you will forgive me!