nccotus

two high school teachers and a fellow student got me in.

I didn’t realize at the time the importance of the math teacher’s recommendation. Embarrassing innuendos were being made and I was shy about receiving the math prize. It queered my graduation. I so loved math but I was profoundly committed to the beauty of literature, it was sort of like my own personal “Dead Poet’s Society.” My English Teacher was concerned about whether I could make it at Harvard even though he wrote me a recommendation, so I was wary. I surmised later my math teacher was probably the one who got me in and had confidence in me.

I was so grateful when I looked back back. He warned me once that my math skills would atrophy if I didn’t use them. It was much worse. When I took Tegretol with Haldol back in the 80’s, after the sick experience in the ICU in ‘86 back, words and simple math started falling out of my head. Now, i look back on my math experiences at Kent School with such pleasure. Although I cannot even add or subtract any more today.

i had the benefit of both Mr. and Mrs. Roney (Math) AND Mr. and Mrs. Gould (English) for 3 out of four years. What a gracious and beautiful time that was.

something happened in my family life that changed my course as i anticipated going to college. I was never able to talk to anybody anybody about it or reconcile it. It involved ny father. My psychotherapist said, “Talk to me about your mother.” She couldn’t have done a worse thing. She played into my mother’s anger and paranoia at ME over what HE did to ME.

Things stood that way ever since. I was deemed a “spoiled brat.” And “Arrogant.”

Here I am today. Getting a blow a minute in these regards.

So, that is my mother’s take on rearing a Harvard graduate.