She’s spent almost her entire life in the principal’s office. And she’s not even in school at least not physically. She’s over 35.
But mentally each time she has to approach some issue she finds herself her inner self sitting outside the principal’s door waiting to be called in judged.
She has to return a dress to the store. She never wore it and they said “It’s no problem to return within two days for a full refund.” Then why is she so nervous about bringing it back?
She’d made a date to meet a friend. A lunch date. That day her son was sent home early because he wasn’t feeling well. She’d have to leave him home alone to keep the date and he’s scared to stay home alone even though he’s technically able to. Now she has to choose — a disappointed friend or a scared son. But she’s the bad girl either way.
Her gym pass needs to be frozen. She’s going overseas for half a year. They told her it wouldn’t be a problem but suddenly it is. Maybe she didn’t hear right? Or they’re not honoring their word. Does she speak up? Or remain silent?
She’d accepted a job for Tuesday but realizes she can’t make it. It’s early enough to cancel but she’s going to disappoint the boss. Bad girl.
What’s the biggest scariest threat for a child in school? “Shape up or you’re going to the principal’s office.” The ultimate punishment.
I can still see myself sitting in the too-big chair feet not reaching the ground waiting to be called into Mrs. Minnel’s office. There was a pond just behind the playground and it was tadpole season. Somehow the other three girls got back to class on time and I was left holding the frog in the lunch box.
I can see every piece of black-and-white spotted tile on the floor the fake orange flower on the secretary’s desk. The framed picture of a stormy ship at sea. The American flag waving in the bright white cloud-filled skies outside the window. I can smell the fresh country air. I can feel the same pit in my stomach. Every time I’m faced with confrontation whether I’m innocent or guilty it’s that same feeling of being judged — and I’m doing it to myself.
Until today whenever I have to call a teacher I get that same pit in the stomach even if there’s nothing wrong.
There are so many times I get paralyzed when faced with the smallest tasks. The other week I was sitting on the couch in one of those binds just because I had to call someone we were supposed to help and explain why it wasn’t going to work out. Just then a friend called.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. She could hear I was stuck.
I told her about the disappointing information I had to relay to someone and how it’s going to affect them and how it’s kind of holding me in my chair feet dangling and she said “You’re in the principal’s office.”
And then I got it. And I thought about what the principal’s office means. And about feeling automatic guilt pangs even if I’m innocent. How all that self-doubt jumps in especially if the boundaries aren’t clear. How whenever confrontation knocks or when we want something self-serving out of the call we need to make or the act we need to do it returns us to that scared insecure place inside ourselves.
But I believe we know when we’re innocent and when we’re not and we have to come to terms with the punishment or the consequence of that too and try to repair.
That’s when we find ourselves sitting in the principal’s office. —