I was born a Stepford Child – or so my mother tells me. As a baby I craved routine and thrived on it. I always loved school – the routine, bells, books, paper, pencils, rules and order. I never ditched one day or even one class period in all my 13 years of education. I was a rule-follower and teachers pet. Yet, even through all this, I always cried at the beginning of every school year. You see, a child of Stepford hates change. Change in all forms. I hated not knowing who my teacher was, where I would sit, and what the new year would be like. My mother tells me that I used to go into ‘fits’ as soon as we found out who my new teacher was. She also like to tell people (including me) that whenever a project or paper was assigned I had to go to the library THAT DAY in order to get it done. I don’t deny any of my Stepfordisms and you will read about many of them on this blog.
The curious thing is that there are many non-Stepford things about me as well. My room is in a constant disaray. I just can’t seem to keep it clean. One year, my mother told me that I had to make my bed everyday. So I slept on top of the covers for over a year. That way my bed was made, I was obeying the rules, but I was doing it my way. Also, children in Stepford don’t have erratic emotions, but I, unfortunately, was born with an over-abundance of emotions. Yelling, or crying, or laughing were not unusual sounds to hear come out of my mouth. I try to control them as best I can.
It is really no surprise to me that I became a teacher. My desk is a mess, but I have the entire year planned and make my copies one term at a time. I like to have an orderly classroom and get frustrated when assemblies and absences mess up my well-laid plans. I get to travel to far off places and meet lots of different people.
It isn’t the Stepford side of me or the non-Stepford side of me that makes me who I am. It is the clash between the two that is the most interesting. Enjoy!
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