(Parenthetically Speaking
I just about lost it this morning. I went over to Safeway to pick of a few items to make a dish for our monthly potluck. As I am leaving to come home, I turn into the main exit lane. There directly in front of me is a woman pushing her cart in my lane not paying any attention to what she was doing. I beeped as softly as I could to let her know I was there. She turned, frowned, and did not move to the side. Had I done what I thought, I would probably be in jail. A little further down was a woman leaving the parking area with her blinker on to turn across my lane and go the other way. While traffic was somewhat heavy the opposite direction, I was the only vehicle in my lane. She had pulled out half way into my lane so that I could not proceed. I gave her the universal “what do you think you’re doing” shrug of my shoulders with up turned hands and she smiled but did not back up. Since I could not go anywhere, I waved her through at the first opening. Had I done what I wanted to do I would not have a vehicle anymore. I have a $500 deductible).
As I was saying….
My mind wandered most of the time I was at church, but my ears perked up whenever the word “NO” or some semblance of rejection came onto my radar. I was also sensitive to anything I considered positive or when I might learn of a new rule.
I already knew I was “not to dance, drink or chew nor go with girls that do.” I had already broken part of that law.
Seventh grade was when they began to teach square dancing. None of my four siblings who preceded me where allowed to dance so I was fairly sure it would be a lost cause. But fortune smiled on me. When the permission slip was sent home I had two. One was for the dance class (actually just a part of what they called physical education) and the other for a visit to Joslyn Art Museum. I decided to get into a happy conversation with my mother and lay both permission slips down as through they were routine class outing slips and hoped she wouldn’t read them. The museum piece was on top and the dance one with only the signature spot showing was on the bottom. (I was becoming a deception list brat) . She signed them both.
My next worry was whether she would see me in the class. We lived directly across from the school and the basement class space was straight across from our front door. I always tried to make sure I was not in front of the windows in class. At the times I was near the window I did all I could to keep my back to the wall.
The teacher was surprised I was permitted to be in the class. She remembered that they others had to remain in the classroom (great memory), but the signature was legit so I was admitted. That year went fine so I wanted to do it the next year as well. This time I simply forged my mother’s name and got away with it, but not without a great deal of guilt. It was another fun year, and I was trying to figure out what my church had against this activity. Duh! I never did.
Near the end of the year the teacher announced that she would be selecting four couples to represent our school in the citywide square dance competition at the Civic Center. I was excited and my partner and I were selected, as was Austin and his partner.
The competition was on a Saturday So I did not have to explain to my parents were I was going other than riding with Austin. As long as I was home before the street lights when on, all was fine there were few questions.
There were piles of people in the Civic Center. There was a banner for each school and we quickly found ours. It was a long but fun day. Dancing is exhausting and I still had to ride my bike home. Teams kept getting eliminated and we were somewhere in the top third. Not bad, I thought. We had a great time and went home excited.
After we returned from church the next, we dropped into our normal Sunday routine. Grandpa napped in the rocker, dad read the paper, I lay on the floor reading the comics and mom was getting dinner ready. I have no idea where my younger brother was. Then dad came over to drop the Living section of the paper in front of me. And there before my eyes was my picture — with my partner as big and clear as life. I didn’t know why? We didn’t win. We weren’t even really that good. Why me. I knew I was in trouble. Dad said, “look at her, she’ a Negro.”
To be continued
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