Memoir Mondays

Imagine a school system that sent an gravely sick seven year old child home by herself when her moaning disrupted the classroom.

Imagine a teacher not bothering to call the mom that her child was obviously distressed. Or, if she did in fact tried to call but failed to reach someone, made no other arrangements to ensure the sick child’s safety.

Imagine that little girl walking home from school by herself with a headache so severe she was afraid she was going to fall off the sidewalk and into the street.

Imagine this child banging her head against the cool wall next to the locked door of her apartment when no one came to open the door because that was the only thing she could think of to try and ease the brutal pain in her head.

That child was me on a late spring day in the year 1976.

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Life lessons: sketching nude models (part 2)

This post is the second part of a story I recalled while walking down memory lane. It involves a life drawing class with nude models. It may interest you to read part 1 first, and I would highly encourage you to read the comments, as well.

Given the interesting events of the first nude model drawling class, and the subsequent attention from a male student in a dorm, I spent the rest of my week fretting.

Partly I was intrigued about the the philosopher student’s offer to pose nude for me in the name of ‘practicing’ my sketching. But it was weird; he was a few years older, and he had a fiancée I had never even seen in the dorm.

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