Losing Our Minds At Times

A while back Stepjammer made an entry in her journal about accidentally wearing two different shoes to work, and it reminded me of a teacher I once had.

She was a fifth grade science teacher.  Her husband owned a very classy menswear store in our little town, and she and her husband were always perfect in dress and "toilette".  Mrs. P's makeup was always flawless, she never had a hair out of place, and her wardrobe was expensive, tailored, and always entirely appropriate for the season.

When I had Mrs. P for science in the fifth grade, I liked her okay, but I thought she was a bit arrogant and brittle.  Whenever she genuinely smiled it was a small "moue" of a smile, and her laugh was a short chuckle.  I never saw her all-out grin or give a big laugh.  The one really good thing in her favor as a teacher as far as I was concerned was that she favored no student (or "type" of student) over another -- there was no teacher's pet or teacher's favorite in Mrs. P's class!  She was a very good science teacher, she just wasn't very personable or friendly toward her students, which isn't necessarily a bad thing for a 5th grade teacher.  She was always kind to me, and I did well enough in her class.  But she did give an impression of looking down her nose at everyone.

Well, one day when I was in the eighth grade I had wandered to the front lobby of the school one morning to wait for my best friend, who walked to school.  Another one of our friends joined me there at the front windows.  Mrs. P came through the front door and paused to speak to the principal, standing nearby.  My friend, Donna, suddenly clutched my arm with one hand, covering her mouth with the other.  Her eyes were wide, brimming with laughter, and she was staring at Mrs. P.

I followed her gaze and saw that ourbeloved, perfect Mrs. P was wearing two different shoes.  Not only were they two different shoes, but one was brown and one was black.  Not only that!  One was a wedge, and one was a heel!

About that time the friend we were waiting for came in, and we grabbed her and motioned with our heads toward Mrs. P.  "Mrs. P!"  I whispered to Dana.  "Two different shoes!"  The three of us composed ourselves and started walking toward the hall to our classrooms, passing our math teacher Mr. A. on the way.  Before we got out of earshot we heard Mr. A. roar with laughter and turning we saw him and the principal laughing and Mrs. P. with a very red face.  She tried to laugh it off, but we could tell she was mortified.  The last we saw of her she was heading back out the front door, presumably to go home and change her shoes.  

We never told anyone, and I don't think anyone else saw her mortification.  It kind of endeared her to me, actually.  It was nice to know that she could be more human than I'd ever thought her before.  I felt sorry for her though, because she obviously did not have any experience with being able to laugh at herself.  The person I am now would have gone up to her and whispered in her ear, but at 13 I would have been way too bashful to have had the temerity to interrupt a teacher's conversation to bring something potentially embarrassing to her attention.  It would not have even occurred to me!

(I have a feeling, though, that if it had been Eler Beth, she would have done it.)

Later that year I took a short psychology class at the end of the school day with Mrs. P, and I so enjoyed it.  She was like a different person.  She obviously loved the subject, and she interacted with us much differently than she had when we were fifth-graders.  She probably should have been teaching older kids all along.  She was not so stiff or unapproachable; she was actually animated!  She even joked around a little. 

It's easy for us to misjudge someone based on a small scope of acquaintance.  I hadn't thought she had much of a personality based on my experience as her student when I was 11, but by the time I had her as a teacher when I was 14 I could see there was more to her.  And now I look back on that and smile when I remember how funny we thought it -- and it was funny.  Forgetting and wearing two different shoes to work can't be anything but funny.  It was not funny that she was embarrassed.  I also remember now that from what I knew of her husband's family they were a very prominent family in the county.  She may have had to be perfect in tone and appearance simply because she had to be "good enough" for her husband's family.  She may just have been naturally reserved.  I guess it's a good reminder that we have to be careful about judging people.

 

(Btw, spell check suggests "men swear" as a correction for the word "menswear".)