New Year, Old Me
I am 5 years old and home after my first day of Kindergarten. My sister saved me a seat at the back of the bus and I am FINALLY all caught up to the big kids.
“So?” asked my dad. “Are you the teacher’s pet?”
From what I understood, the teacher’s pet was the unequivocal leader of the pack, the favorite. The star.
I shrugged. “It’s probably me, but they haven’t announced it yet.”
I laughed with my family as they laughed. It was the perfect punchline for the joke I didn’t get. Two things were clear to me at that moment I wasn’t quite as caught up as I’d thought and just maybe I wouldn’t get chosen after all.
In this new year, I’m going back. New year, new me: bullshit. I want to go back to that girl who didn’t question that she was wonderful. I’ve read a lot this year about becoming who you were before they told you who you should be. Well, that’s hard.
Are all the “should bes” so bad? For all the be polite, quiet down, learn your place messages we inherit from a society that undervalues women and girls, I’ve heard plenty of “You’ve got this!” So why do the negative messages resonate so much more?
Do I really want to forget all I’ve learned to go back to that raw confidence?
Luckily, I don’t get to make that choice. So in 2023, I vow to integrate the lessons, the growth and the experience I’ve earned so far in these 46 years with the badass motherfuckery of my 5 year old self.
Mrs. Baumgarten is long retired by now, but if she’s out there, understand I’m declaring myself teacher’s pet. (But I won’t eat the crayons anymore.)