2/19/2020 Be-Longing

Essential Spirit
Rosanne A. Bostonian, Ph.D., RMT
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Rosanne Bostonian Sep 17, 2018 2 min read

Be-Longing

The first day of school in Kindergarten, I was amazed that there were that many kids in the
world that were my age! Yes, I saw a few in the playground, but the sea of little heads
bobbing around the classroom was news to me.

There was a boy in overalls to my left who kept darting for the exit. He was patiently guided
back to his seat several times. I think he knew that his soul was about to be indentured for
the next umpteen years. I mused and didn’t quite get it.

Soon I would get it. In retrospect, I wasn’t obedient. I didn’t understand the criteria for
acceptable behavior, so my spontaneity wasn’t appreciated by Miss Getcher. I confess that I
was looking around, talking, and fascinated with the colors and characters.

As retribution, I was escorted to the coat room. I didn’t know why, but there I was. It was far
less interesting to be in that space than in the classroom. The nursery rhyme figures on the
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tiles above the ceramic hooks were little solace. The coats and I were waiting for something
to happen.

Over the next weeks I was relegated to the coat room repeatedly. Emerging from the
darkness for “nap time” I wasn’t in a napping mood, so was punished again. Not
surprisingly, I wasn’t happy with school. My mother asked why, and I answered, “It’s dark
and boring.” My next stop was to the eye doctor!

Finally, my brother came looking for me one day, and the class pointed to the coat room. He
stuck his head in and asked, “What are you doing in here?” I said, “This is where I go to
school.”

The next day, my father escorted me to the principal’s office and the teacher got read the riot
act, but the dye was cast. I was “the girl in the coat room.” It took several years to
destigmatize me, but I finally made it to “Safety Patrol,” my white belt proclaiming my
resurrection!

And so it goes… The coat rooms in our lives, the moments of feeling different and not
belonging etch trauma on our hearts. I could have used a compassionate Kindergarten
teacher, that’s for sure. Like all experiences, the injury can give rise to consciousness. I
hope that the saga of the coat room opened my heart a little wider.

With love,
Rosanne
#kindergarten #compassion #RosanneBostonian

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