A few years ago, I was asked to help run a swim curriculum for the local middle school. One where my own daughter was in eighth grade. A school I was very familiar with, having had my son there several years before.
Excited to share my vision of swimming with students and thrilled to be invited, I headed off to the first day of introductions at the middle school.
I was fully comfortable, as I speak to large groups of people all the time.
I also teach swimming seven days per week so I know my subject matter extraordinarily well and I speak to children all day, every day, so I know children extraordinarily well.
The first class I would speak to was the seventh grade.
Fully excited, I stepped up after being introduced.
I faced the bleachers, packed with seventh graders.
And, all of a sudden, I was back in seventh grade. Where I was bullied, and miserable, and misunderstood.
Where my daily life was one of children ringing my doorbell to invite me out to play. Only to then run away before I could get downstairs. Of being invited to non-existent birthday parties, only to be told it wasn’t real after I’d purchased the gift and gotten all excited that I was included. My enthusiastic approach to everything I enjoyed made me both annoying and gullible to those around me. I was talkative, loud, and I told all kinds of “stories” all day long. I usually felt stupid and these things happening to me made that true.
As I faced the sea of seventh grade faces, my voice refused to come out. Tears poured down my face, as my late forty year old self reverted back to seventh grade.
As far as my emotional self was concerned, these were my peers. And they were hard to face en masse.
Shocked at my own reaction, I made an about-face and turned to look directly into the Athletic Director’s eyes.
A quick glance at me told him everything he needed to know.
He uttered an “Oh, boy.”
I backed up and took a breath while this professional reminded me of who I was. He stood before those seventh graders and told them that I was a very successful grown up. That I owned my own business. That I’d been teaching swimming for years, probably to most everyone in that room. He told them (while really telling me) that they were very fortunate that I was willing to give my time and my swim expertise to the program.
After a few breaths, I explained myself to the students. About how I’d been bullied and about how it was really hard to face an entire pile of students of the same age I’d been when that had occurred.
They were kind, understanding and very quiet.
I don’t know what they went home and told their parents, but I know what I went home and told mine.
When I phoned my mom that night, I told her that my friend, the Athletic Director, had handed me the tools to cope with my emotional state. That he had reminded me of my success. Had reminded me of who I was. That he was kind and gracious in his gift.
You are awesome to share this powerful story. I am CERTAIN that the 7th graders grew that day in a good way.