I woke up this morning in search of that metaphorical "sticker on my chart." Whatever school you attended there was something you earned that signified your worth. Your approval. Your belonging. Your superiority above others who didn't make the efforts you did. Growing up in the Catholic school system of Mankato these awards began with stickers, and transitioned into the "O.K. Kid Award," and later "Peacemaker Award." It was a way to "beat" the others, and show you had showed some effort. As an adult, on Election Day, this comes in the form of the "I Voted" sticker. Since I'm a teacher, I can't vote until after work. The shame, and embarrassment brought on by being stickerless until 4:30pm is close to unbearable. I had to do a few affirmations in the bathroom mirror at lunch just to make it through.
(Before voting)
After work, I headed back to one of St. Louis Park's finest elementary schools. As I walked up to the table, I quickly ran through the alphabet to make sure I was in the right line. It wasn't until my second run through that I felt secure enough with my suspicion that H is in fact between G-K, and not L-M. This was the same techinique I used back at Holy Rosary Elementary School when they'd ask us to line up alphabetically. Thanks, Seasame Street.
Some of my former classmates, if asked, may share the opinion I was somewhat of a "brown noser, suck up, or teacher's pet." I'll proudly own these titles with the clarification: I was a GENUINE brown noser, suck up, or teacher's pet. Every compliment I gave. Every paper I passed out. Every chalkboard eraser I clapped was out of love and respect for that person. I never did those things to merely manipulate. Mary and Jerry Hicks raised me better than that. This is a skill and approach to others I let sneak out every so often. How did I attempt to suck up to the registration lady? I proudly handed her my license and the voter registration card that I received in the mail. In the time it took her to look annoyed and tell me my identification was unnecessary, I snuck in a little conversation: "busy night, aren't you the best volunteering your time." All these voter ID ads have spooked me into giving her all the proof I could. I was willing to provide my library card, and teacher badge if necessary. Unlike most, she wasn't having my conversation and simply handed me my ballot. It was at this moment I was reminded of my test taking days.
Tests in elementary school, more specifically in the younger grades, didn't feel secure unless you were allowed to use your "privacy folders." If you went to a school where this term wasn't frequently used, then you are probably a criminal. I'm kidding, but I fear you may be a victim or perpatrator of answer theft. Privacy folder use is when you prop up two of your sturdiest 2-pocket folders so that your test sheet isn't visible to your classmates. Election poll booths are classy privacy folders in my opinion. They help minimize the stealing of answers, but can't completely eliminate the possibility. No matter how old I get, I fear cheating. I don't want someone stealing my answers, and I don't like seeing others peek. I felt uneasy as I watched parents allow their children behind their privacy folders, but my heart really started racing when a woman snuck up to an elderly man and said "Hey, dad can you see the questions ok." I wanted to raise my hand and ask the woman handing out the stickers for a little security enforcement, but I lost all faith in her as I saw her lack of discretion with sticker distribution. She willingly gave stickers to two children who did not earn them. Sticker lady was an enabler. This badge of honor I so yearned had not only been given to mini cheaters who didn't even vote, but she showed no remorse. As she handed it to the little girls she said, "ooh everyone deserves a sticker." No! No, they do not sticker woman! I waited 18 years before my first sticker. I knew the names of the candidates! I looked stuff up! Sadly, all this frustration, and disappointment in humanity was forgotten when I was handed my sticker. It was an immediate symbol of honor and achievement. I was part of something, and I had a sticker to prove it.
.JPG)
No comments:
Post a Comment