Sixth Grade

     My sixth grade teacher once told me that I was poor, and I'd never have anything. To be fair, we were poor. Dirt poor. A few of us students were. But, our families managed. And, no one ever talked about it--at least not in such a harsh way.

     Nonetheless, she was so irate because I refused to accept old clothing from her--clothing she thought was far better than my own. 

     Either way, she said it in front of the entire 6th grade class. I recall hushed giggles and faint gasps... That day, I decided to stay in class rather than go to lunch. I used that time to cry. 

     I recently told my mother of this. She was outraged--because days later, as it turns out, that same teacher bypassed me and politely gave the clothing to my mother.

     "I wish I had known that at the time--" my mother said in a huff. "And to think, I accepted them hoping to spare her the embarrassment of rejection--!"

-Jen