The first time I was very rude to my mom. Our first fight real fight.

She didn’t talk to me for three days. I had said, “What’re you stupid?”. I think I was in the 3rd grade, 9 years old.

Our art teacher had died. He was an amazing man. I’d only been at the school for a few months so I didn’t know him that well. But he was a true artist. Honest and raw, loved teaching art. A very authentic guy. I’m honestly not great at describing him. I only have a couple of memories but they’re powerful. He walked with a limp, he had a prosthetic wooden leg. Despite this, I remember his moving about the room with vigor and passion I’d not see in anyone else before.

He’d go around glancing at the art projects kids were working on. At the start of the class, He’d give a demonstration, a bit of theory, and then wanted us to make it our own. I remember he taught us how to make a road extending into the horizon. He taught us perspective and scale.

In this one particular lesson, he actually was teaching us to emulate certain images from magazines. I’d cut out a picture and then attempted to draw it.
Feeling good about myself and what I’d drawn, I went up to him, fishing for compliments … “this isn’t any good.” I’d set him up! All he had to say was, sure it is. This is great! Wow!

Without missing a beat he goes, “that’s because you’re not blending any colors”, he then took me over to the station where all the colored pencils were and began showing me how to blend colors to create more nuance and choice.

Anyways, Mr ceiling was absent from school for a long time. Then it was announced he died. A wave hit through the school. Parents, teachers, students alike were devastated. Someone magical was gone, it wasn’t ordinary, I’d not experienced a lot of death in my life at that point, but even then I could tell this one was different.

A couple of days later, my family was in our living room, we were folding laundry while watching tv. And my mom said, “Mr. Seely’s death was so sad”. Which was mostly true. But that wasn’t his name. His name was Mr. Ceiling.

Mom his name is Mr. Ceiling. “No, it’s not it’s Mr. Seely.” At first, I thought she was kidding.

“It’s definitely Mr. Ceiling. “ I responded.

No, it’s Mr. Seely. She repeated. “

At this point, I responded, “what’re you stupid.” Instantly I regretted it. I was sent up to my room promptly, which was no huge change. But I did feel really bad and this was different. My mom didn’t talk to me for three days. Driving me to school, picking me up from daycare in silence. Three days later we were shopping at the mall and she broke her silence suddenly.

She said she’d talk to me but I could say that ever again. Or be rude.

I’ve definitely been rude and obnoxious and no steroid since. I’m never proud of these moments and work hard on myself to eliminate difficulties I have maintaining composure during moments of stress.

While I can’t excuse my behavior back then or more recently, I would like to examine aspects of it.

In my young judgment, I thought it was ridiculous for my mom to present herself as an authority about someone she’d met once at a parent-teacher conference.

I’d been in his class daily for four months. Compared to her one encounter. I mean.. was she stupid!? Not only did she not know his name. She initially wouldn’t entertain her being wrong.

I remember on day 2 of the silent treatment, my pointing out a whiteboard with his name written on the whiteboard in the schools main lobby. “A memorial for Mr. Ceiling. “

See! I pointed out victoriously. I could tell it was impactful evidence but she exclaimed.. It doesn’t matter!

and it didn’t. She was wrong. Af. But my rudeness had no place. Sure she should have budged her stance when told by her child she had his teacher's name wrong.

but hey, kids get confused, get things wrong. It wasn’t THAT unreasonable. I did feel there were stubbornness and underestimation at play. These ARE the two things that still trigger me the most to this day.

I think this is a very valuable insight.

I don’t know why there are so many deep-seated memories that come to the surface when I write this blog. But when I do, I realize that there’s a lot of information in distant memories and the way we process them through today’s lens.

lessons from this moment.

1) Never be rude! Even if you’re right, ESPECIALLY if you’re right. My correctness was overshadowed by the hurt I caused.

2) you don’t have to be right in the room. Be comfortable being wrong in the room, but right historically.
better yet, just be comfortable being wrong. This will serve you very well

3) While you should always respect your parents and elders, don’t allow your perspective to be diminished. Learn to communicate things in a patient way.

Obviously, these weren’t at my disposal at that young age. Shit, I’m not sure they are now!

But it’s worth examining your past to try and come up with evolving strategies to correct some of your persistent issues. There’s a lot of data that’s still relevant from our past behaviors. These can be used to inform our current decisions and struggles. They can also help identify consistent character traits that require addressing or boundary setting.

Sorry for being rude mama, I love you! I’m the stupid one youse a genius duh.

PS I’m kinda smaht I know don’t worry. kinda. (Also an idiot 😉)

ps. Funny thing. I had to DM a middle school friend to confirm whether his name was Mr. Ceiling or Mr. Seely, that felt like great irony.

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thanks for reading y’all. Be good to loved ones and yourselves