This is a story that has little to do with depression. It happened long before my depression days but it certainly is one strategy we can all use to create a better environment for ourselves. My environment in the story was Indiana University in Bloomington in a Slavic language class. I could say which language but then I might as well use names as well and that is probably a bad idea.
I was entering my second year of this language, taught by the same teacher as the year before. In the first year, the students in the class bonded over teacher loathing. The teacher was generally despicable toward everyone in the class, but I had him pegged with "gender issues" as well. I actually got a C+ in the class one semester, likely because I did not show up in his office and cry. The last C+ I had gotten was in 1981. I'd rather have a string of Cs than show up in an office and cry to anyone so loathsome.
On the first day of class in that second year we were assigned to write an essay in the Slavic language about what we did over the summer. I wrote a story that went something like this:
The Rooster
This summer, I went home to California and tended my chickens. I discovered that the rooster was hurting them. He pecked them and pecked them until they bled. In my house, there is a consequence when men do not treat women with respect. The rooster continued to abuse the hens, so I got a gun and I murdered him. I threw his carcass down the canyon. He will not hurt the hens again.
On the day the essay was due, our classroom was not available. We met in a seminar room with a large rectangular table. He was seated at the head of the table in his position of authority. Other students sat at his side. I sat at the other end of the table, in a tall and confident manner. Predictably, he asked me to read my essay first. Most of the vocabulary in my essay was new so only one other student understood it -- one whom I translated it to before class. As I read the essay aloud in our Slavic language, the professor's eyes got wider and wider. When I read, "I murdered him," he gasped and said to the class, "Do you know what she just said?"
He asked my friend who was in the loop, but also the least likely person in the class to understand the vocabulary.
"Yeah, she killed a rooster," he answered.
"How did you know?" He asked excitedly. The teacher turned to me, "Really? Is that true?"
"Absolutely. We don't put up with that kind of behavior," I answered with a long, stern stare.
Of course, the truth was that my dad shot the rooster, but there is no need for truth to ruin a good story.
(Just to clarify, the verb "to murder" was the only one I could find in my little dictionary. I expect I would have chosen something a bit more subtle in English.)
Slavic writer Milan Kundera (perhaps in "The Unbearable Lightness of Being) says "Relationships are formed in the first week." His meaning is that we create a dynamic in that time between the two people that endures. His warning: be careful what dynamic you allow in that time. It is true of any relationship, including a teacher-student relationship. Students are always vulnerable to teachers who have a need to wield power unnecessarily. My relationship with my teacher was probably largely formed in that first week, but there was a notable change after "The Rooster." If memory serves, I got B+s that year with the same amount of work as the year before and no pleading tears.
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And on a side note, Polit Tsk Tsk Tsk blog has created a Sarah Palin baby name generator. They write:
Sarah Palin has picked out an All-American set of names for her children. There's Track, Trig, Bristol, Willow, and Piper.
Ever wonder, What would your name would be if Sarah Palin was your mother? Well now you can find out!
I entered my husband's name in the generator and this was the response:
Sander, if you were born to Sarah Palin, your name would be:
Chase Rooster Palin
Who knows, Chase Rooster Palin you just might be president one day!
That's when I realized I probably should have been named "Sander." Apparently, Sarah Palin would have named me Rot Pipeline Palin. That would be a tough one growing up.
You too can find out your Palin baby name.
