When I was a young girl, I was molested. Not just once, but many times. My grandmother never knew. My father only found out when I told him years and years after the fact. There is really nothing more to say. It happened. I cannot take it back. But I HAVE been able to move forward in my life, in spite of those events.
When I was in my 30's, I was at the Eagle Rock Plaza, standing in the center court of the mall. For some reason, my eyes were drawn to a man standing on the other side of the court. I looked at him and my heart almost stopped. Could it really be him? He had to have been in his 50's all those years ago. I figured he must be dead by now. But, no. It was really him. The man who had caused me so much pain, shame, and hatred was standing there, in the flesh. He was very old, I would guess in his 80's. What hair he had left was completely white. He looked frail. I was a grown woman. I could have walked over there and beat him to a bloody pulp. But, the moment I realized for sure that it was him, I was taken back. I was a little girl, unable to wrest myself from his grip, unable to make him stop. I literally ran from the mall to my car, crying and shaking and scared. I struggled to calm myself down and, as soon as I could, I drove out of there and went home. At home, I cried some more. At the same time, I was filled with amazement. After all of the years that had passed, after the years of therapy, after all of that, just the sight of him could turn me back into a crying, terrified little girl. His victim. It was a shock.
I have had one of the best summers of my life this year. I have spent a lot of time with Roger. We have spent time with friends and traveled a bit and have had a wonderful time. The icing on the cake was being able to attend the Barbershop Harmony Society Convention with my dad. I know that I would have enjoyed it quite a bit if just Roger and I had gone. But, having my dad there to share the experience meant the world to me. Seeing his excitement and being able to talk about all of the details and nuances of the music and the performances --- it was just so awesome!
During the summer, I have also had the opportunity to meet a couple of times with our new school superintendent and our new principal. I have been very impressed with their positive attitudes and their determination to put the past behind us and go forward to make our school a great school. At every meeting the new superintendent has said, "Please know that when I talk about making something better, that is NOT to be taken as a criticism of any past administrators." If anybody has tried to bring up the events of the past year or so, he has politely, but emphatically, shut them down. He does not allow gossip or negativity to enter the conversation. I have a HUGE amount of respect for him, for that alone. Both he and the new principal have been very kind and respectful of me and made me feel valued as a teacher and a staff member. I KNOW they have heard all kinds of vile lies about me, but they have not given me any indication that any of that matters. I have truly been feeling positive and excited about starting the new school year. I have felt safe and valued. It has felt good to feel those things, and good to see and feel that the other members of the staff have been feeling the same way.
Today was the annual "Welcome Back" luncheon for the staff. As usual, all the retired staff was invited to attend the luncheon and many of them did come, including the 5 retired teachers who caused such hell and division and strife and hatred in our school for the past 2 years. Now, for some reason, I had not even given a thought to the fact that they would most likely be at the luncheon today. I have not given those witches a thought for months. I have been relishing the peace and unity that the entire staff seems to be sharing. I have been visualizing the new school year as a time when a caterpillar who has been all alone in a very dark place is now able to break free and fly into the light as a beautiful butterfly, leaving behind the shell of that black prison to flit from one fragrant flower to another. Today, however, a thick, dark cloud descended upon me as I saw the hateful women of last year. When the first one walked by me, I said, "Good morning." I did not smile or run to embrace her, but I DID try to be civil. She gave me the dirtiest look and walked right by me without a word. If I had to guess, I would imagine that a surgeon cutting open her body cavity would find it full of black coal and spiders and cockroaches, swimming in bubbling, foul-smelling sewer muck. She is one of the most truly evil, hateful people I have ever known.
For the duration of the day -- through the luncheon and the insurance meetings and all of it -- I was stunned to realize how just seeing those vile women was affecting me. The butterfly was gone. I was taken back to the teacher of the last two years: angry, afraid, worried, emotional, and filled with hatred. The other teachers, who used to be friends with the coven, seemed different to me too. I felt afraid to talk to them, afraid of what they might be saying to the witches, afraid of what they were being told about me. Instead of flying, I was walking on eggshells again. I did not feel safe. I felt panic and terror. Just as I did those years ago in the Eagle Rock Plaza, I left school as soon as I legally could and came home, hoping to escape the darkness. But some of it, at least, has lingered with me. How could this happen? I was feeling so incredibly good, but now? I know that I have to let this go, to get back to the butterfly that I was just a day ago, but even here at home, I find myself crying and distraught. What if the other teachers all revert back to their caterpillars of last year? How can I face another year of fear and suspicion and worry? I am going to work to get myself out of the blackness that those women brought with them today and return to the light where I, and all of the people at Meadows, should be and deserve to be. I cannot abide the thought that those vile, evil women can still control the school or control me. I do NOT want to dig up the ugly, rotting flesh that was last year. We buried that at the end of the school year. We have had the entire summer to let the grass grow over the plot and start to look as if that grave had never been dug. All of that needs to stay right where it is: in the past, in the ground, outside of our view. I pray that it can be so.
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