Down South

I was 15 years old, I believe it was the summer of 1994 and we had just come back to MA from Saudi Arabia. From my memory, my mother and I jumped in a car and drove down to North Carolina. We left my brother's and my dad to pack up our old house to sell it. We had nowhere to live and no idea what we were going to find. I'm sure, my mother had it all planned out. We stayed at a bed and breakfast and we went house hunting while checking out all the local high schools. There were quite a few things that I found to be very strange about this new State. For one, why are you waving at me when I drive by, obviously you have me mistaken for someone you know. And when I'm at a store and you ask how I'm doing and I respond with the well rehearsed, "fine, how are you?" that was not meant to be an actual question, I really didn't want to know how you were. And everything down here is so slow; restaurants, gas pumps, even when people walk, can't we just move along people? The high schools we interviewed were a whole other story, we toured one school and I remember the woman giving my mother a nudge and saying, "the good thing about this school is the white to black ratio", something about the black ratio being low. I believe my mouth hung open for a whole two minutes after that comment. I also believe my mother saying something about me not attending that school. I mean, really, was the south still segregated?

It was certainly an adjustment and even more so coming from a foreign country where you really didn't make much eye contact never mind small talk. We lucked out in NC; we found a nice home with a farmer's porch...in the middle of nowhere...but nice all the same. We even got to bring our dog Shadow with us. Dad had her so doped up when he arrived; I don't even think she knew she left our old house. My brother, Peter even came to live with us for a bit. Mom got a job teaching and before I knew it I was attending the local high school. I was a freshman again and the new girl...again. I wasn't really sure how I was going to fit in. I talked funny, walked fast and thanks to Saudi Arabia I had no real interest in academics. The teacher's here were different; the students didn't seem to have a lot of respect and often talked back or out of turn. My science teacher got so mad at a student once, he threw his books and binder out the door, lifted a desk up and moved it into the hallway and told him to sit there for the rest of the year. Where I grew up, you didn't talk back to the teacher and if you did, there were repercussions. And teachers certainly weren’t aggressive with school or student property; otherwise they would be dealing with legal repercussions. As for me, in no way did I see this as an opportunity to rebel. I wanted to sit just far enough in the background to get by.

Things were quieter here, aside from the student/teacher relationships; people were nicer and calmer about things. Kids were free to express themselves more. I really didn’t see a definitive line between popular and not popular. It was just a bunch of different groups without the social hierarchy. The skaters, the jocks, the preps, the quirky crowd and even the trouble makers all had their own tables or spots in the courtyard. There was Nora from English class, she was bright and witty and fun. There was a light in her eyes and people were just drawn to her. There was Allison who was lanky and quirky and had her own personality. Emily was the jock, loud and hilarious; she always knew what to say to make you feel better. Katherine was the pretty girl that dated the senior boys and then broke all their hearts. Monique was the soccer star that told me I was the only white girl she didn’t hate. And then Matt and Jarrid were the skater’s that hung out at the library after school, they looked like rebels but they were two of the sweetest kids I’d ever met. I was the girl that sort of jelled into this new life with all these new friends. There were moments that made it hard to settle in only because none of them hung out together and I, being selfish, wanted to be a part of it all. I didn’t want to pick a group, I wanted to play soccer and wear ripped jeans and hang out at Luigi’s with the poets. Of course I had my fair share of people that weren’t so fond of me. Like Nora’s best friend who often brushed me off or just completely ignored me. I would later become accustomed to the best friend dilemma, who was I to walk into someone’s life after they’d had a well established friendship for so many years without me? There was Meghan, the class brown-noser, who hated the fact that I learned (out of sheer boredom) to say the alphabet backwards…in Spanish. She came in the very next day and announced that she could do it to and then gave me the stink eye for the rest of the year. Then there was that senior, the one during soccer try outs that already had her team picked out and obviously I wasn’t a part of it. I was relieved to make it on the JV team. My coach and my teammates were amazing. I learned so much and bonded with so many wonderful people. And honestly, I don’t believe we won one game. What mattered was that I found a new love. At soccer games, we would put our hair in pigtails and use wash out marker to color in the school colors, orange and black. We drew panther paws on our faces and wore our soccer jerseys to school on game day. I even had my first real crush, Isaac Deeter-Wolf, he was the star soccer player for the boys and I drooled every time I saw him. In hindsight I don’t believe he knew I existed but that never stopped me from drawing hearts into my notebook.

I was really settling in to this new home when it became very clear that things weren’t going so well for my family. My dad just couldn’t get work, he was even told over the phone “that he was from the wrong part of the US”. It was so frustrating to find a place in the world that was so calm and easy going, a place that I saw myself growing old in…and yet it was so racist in so many different ways. It was frowned upon to comingle with the other races in school, and when people called me Yankee, it wasn’t meant as a compliment. A war that was won so long ago for the freedom of other’s was still being fought in this southern town. I’m not sure they even knew what the war was about, I just sensed the bitterness of losing and the idea that anyway that they could get back at the North, they would.  My dad happened to feel the brunt of that anger.

So in the summer of 1995, we packed up our home and we moved back to MA. Out of all of my moves, this was one of the hardest. I often tell people my parents had to take me kicking and screaming. But for the sake of the family, my parents had to do what was right and NC wasn’t going to work for us. My father was able to get another contract working for Raytheon, this time overseas in the Marshall Islands. It looked like my winters were going to be snow free once again. As for me, the new girl status was sort of becoming my annual thing and at the age of 16 I was feeling a little bitter.

The Ruff Life

So the saying goes, "When you hit a brick wall....climb over it".

When I was pregnant with my daughter and my husband and I came home from a day out with the family on Christmas to find a waterfall in our bedroom, you would have thought that I needed to be medicated. I was a basket case when I was pregnant with my daughter, I cried all the time and I forgot everything. And not just major stuff but the basics like signing checks or sending my son to school with lunch. I had several tear filled phone calls with my supervisor, why he didn't request that I take an early leave is beyond me. My postpartum was even a struggle and more so, I believe, because I was frustrated with myself for feeling so negative. I had a home, a husband and two beautiful children who would be well provided for; I just wanted to get over it. And I eventually did, however, in hindsight I realized that maybe I shouldn’t have such high expectations on how a pregnant woman should behave. I went into this pregnancy expecting to be more accepting of my raw emotions and so far I'm wondering where all the water works are. There's a lot that we go through as women and every one of us deals with this miracle differently and probably differently each time. We are our own worst critics, so why be so judgmental towards others?

Currently I have this; "things happen for a reason so why lose sleep over it" sort of mindset going on. The supervisor for the construction at my office was kind enough to point that out to me, odd how some strangers can be so candid. Why would it bother me, he's right. It was almost good to hear, sort of like a reminder to pay attention, know when the right or wrong time is to care. For example, feelings shouldn't play a part in switching doctors, you're a patient and if you're not happy then it's an easy decision. Feelings shouldn't play a part at work, put simply, it’s business and if you're a woman you might as well be wearing a bulls eye on your forehead. Feelings also shouldn't play a part at a restaurant where the staff is being less then satisfying. Feelings SHOULD play a part when interacting with your children, family and friends. Feelings should also play a part when you tell your husband you’re going to throw his alarm clock out the window if it goes off one more time…and you actually look forward to doing it. And Feelings should also definitely play a part when your dog mistakes the neighbors Pomeranian for a chew toy. These are times when I have to step back and check myself, "Liz, please care, otherwise it may not end well".

We had a wonderful day yesterday; Calvin did so much work around the house. He lifted and moved and cleaned and often complained but he did it. His new room looks great and he's so excited to have a TV in there finally, even if it's with restrictions. The baby's room is almost ready, with 4 1/2 months left, we're looking pretty good. Maisie even went most of the day without Dora on the TV. It was going so great...and then Calvin took out the recycling. I was getting dressed so we could head out to pick up furniture when I heard the frantic scream for our dog Lily. I thought, "Great, she saw a cat and is running around the neighborhood, I better get outside before Calvin runs in front of car trying to catch her". As if time slowed down as I ran past our bay window and saw my neighbor turning in circles with his little schmoot of a dog hightailing it from the hungry beast that was on its hind leg. I opened the door to hear the horrid shriek and growl of two animals in combat while Calvin continued to scream at Lily. I flew across the street and grabbed our vicious dog who then immediately froze in fear when she realized momma had caught her doing something very bad. Calvin apologized to the neighbor as he held his yelping dog against his chest and I, who was too mortified to make eye contact, did a bee-line back to our house. Calvin was in full ADD reaction mode and had a complete meltdown in the living room while his 2 year old sister rubbed his back and said, "you okay buddy?” I had to ask him to go into his bedroom while I went out to face the neighbor. With his ADD, I couldn't sugar coat the issue at hand, when he's in meltdown mode he needs to self soothe before I can soothe. There were one of two things that could happen (a) they would press charges and our dog would need to be put down or (b) we offer to pay all the medical expenses and pray that it satisfies them. As most of us know, emergency vet visits aren't cheap so either way our good day was over. And yes, I don't know why the neighbor didn't just pick up his 5 pound dog when he saw another dog come barreling out of a yard barking and growling. But I'm keeping these feelings in check.

So how do you ground a dog, teach them that what they did was very wrong, and keep them from behaving that way ever again? I believe that was the most frustrating realization of the evening. Lily forgot what she did 20 minutes after it happened, however, the look on my face obviously suggested that it was best to stay on the dog bed for the rest of the day.

I guess the question that I keep going back to is, “Why aren’t I in full meltdown mode?” and my one conclusion is it must be because I'm carrying a mellow, zen like child who's rationale is wearing off on me OR it could be my hormones and this "things happen for a reason so why lose sleep over it" sort of mindset. My rationale on the situation is that nothing will be solved with a meltdown. Making phone calls and keeping in touch with our neighbors is the best we can do right now. We should look at it as a life lesson. We always knew Lily wasn't a fan of female dogs, now that she's crossed the line past barking and growling maybe it's time for a behavior course at our local SPCA. After Calvin calmed down, I explained to him what could happen, I then told him about the time that my own dog bit my face and left me with a dimple. He wanted to know what Mimi (my mother) did and I told him she was mad and said we may have to get rid of her and I cried and got really upset. I told him that I understand now why she said that and that’s why I needed to be upfront with him so he knew what to expect to. He asked what he could do and I told him to pray, that's all we can do right now. We will fix what we can but everything else needs to be left in God's hands.