Being on this journey with my daughter and realizing she has never been in the system’s shackles, has made me think about my own schoolyears a lot lately. That is, I have tried to remember these years. The reality is that I remember very little, especially from the first five schoolyears. It is like these years were never there.
I can only imagine how I must have felt. I must have been very dissociated during those years. It matches the total lack of memories from my 5th to 10th year.
Trying to remember and piece things together with photographs made during that time, I realize I do have some rare memories and a few that I am now particularly fond of. My daughter is now a little older than I was at that time.
It was my 6th birthday and there were about ten children from my class over for my modest party at the little attic- apartment we lived in (Amsterdam) I remember cake- and only from photographs- the party hats we had on and specific friends I sat next to at the table, celebrating the big 6!
They brought me gifts and I remember just one. One of the boys, Barry V., classmate, dark blonde hair, also 6, gave me a record/single (we are talking about the 80s) It was a record from a Dutch band called ‘Toontje Lager‘ and the song on the record was “Ik heb stiekem met je gedanst”, which means “I danced with you in secret”. A song that was very popular at that moment in time. The singer sings about secretly dancing with his crush, from a distance, in his mind, as he does not know her.
I still remember, vividly, how I felt; the shock when I opened and saw the gift: I wanted to hide under the table. We were only six years old, but the title of the song, for me, meant that he, Barry, wanted to secretly dance with me. The horror unfolded and it was impossible to just say a quick thank you and hide the gift as the guests had already seen it and apparently interpreted it the same way I did….
“Barry, wants to secretly dance with Silvia, na-na-na-na-naaaaa.” (who doesn’t know the drill?) Everybody knew. The embarassment was total and brutal. Barry, also six and also an introvert, was visibly shocked and ashamed himself, which, I figured, was because his mother had bought it and he saw it……..when I saw it.…..
Sitting at opposite sides of the table, him and me, occasionally glancing in each other’s direction, only six years old, I didn’t know if I could find comfort in his being just as embarassed and looking angry as well. I figured at his mother.
These little guests with cake smeared over their faces, balloons tied to their wrists and party-hats hanging to one side, had decided a fate that the record meant we were ‘together’, Barry and I. Six years old or not. I just wanted a Hairdressing doll or E.T with the glowing finger, a pony magazine, cake, but this was a record that set my face on fire and made me want to hide under the table.
I think my parents or someone else, disregarded my burning cheeks and signals of despair and put on the record straight away. “I danced with you in secret, I hope you liked it”, sang the singer. That was the final blow.
Remembering this makes me smile now and even laugh out loud. Now, while I can still feel how deeply (!) uncomfortable it made me feel -and that was very valid, I consider it a rite of passage now and it tells me so much about social conditioning. I would have handled this much differently with my daughter, in this day. How our perspective changes over the years. Our ability to see the bigger picture. How often do we think, “if only if I had known then, what I know now”, but it is not meant to be that way. We can embrace the inner child who struggled then, in the present moment, if others did not understand nor gave support.
Some dances need to remain a secret, from a distance, in the mind. This was one I wish had stayed a secret on that day, on the record shop’s shelfs. We never had a dance together, we, six year old’s. Nor a secret one as far as I was concerned. How difficult was it anyway to buy a gift for a girl that age? What about a pony magazine, Mrs V? I wonder if Barry thought the same. I see him standing with his mom in the store. Last minute gift shopping. Annoyed and pulling his mom’s arm. “Hmm, says Mrs.V….what about this catchy record?” He doesn’ hear it. His mom decides. He had picked the E.T. I am quite sure 🙂
The Journey of a Learner 