Junior High and all that torture!

I just finished reading a wonderful YA novel titled The Wednesday Wars by Gary Schmidt. It is a wonderful book, and definitely on my must read list. As I’m reading it though I think junior high is never really like this, and I tried to recall what my junior high experience was like and then I could see that yes with a little exaggeration and some well told stories that even I had junior high anecdotes worth repeating. As I am not an author I will just mention a few of these I was reminded of – perhaps you have some you could share as well – or have things changed since I went to school?


First of all it was called Orr Junior High School and our mascot wasn’t an animal but an Orion (a constellation of stars that looks like, The Hunter, from Greek Mythology). Yes a little strange in its own right.

Much of what I remember happening was when I was in 7th grade and my brother Rick was attending 8th grade. For the most part we walked the halls as though we didn’t even know one another. I remember finding him in the lunch room kissing, I believe the tallest girl in school – yes right there in front of everyone, I was horrified to say the least. (Did I ever tell, of course not, that was just who he was – the popular guy.) Of course that wasn’t me, I was the person that tried to fade into the walls, not be too well known, but not to be the one that got picked on either. Sadly there was a slightly mentally handicapped girl in our school who was tormented unmercifully. We had PE together and almost daily the girls tortured her by spraying her locker full of her clothes and things with deodorant, stealing her towel (yes we had to shower after exercising or at least pretend to), or just being plain mean to her. Looking back I wish I had the guts to stand by her side, but we all knew we would be the brunt of the bullies as well if we ever did anything like that. Then there were the junior high dances. Mostly we just hung out with friends and had a good time. One time I was kidding around with my friend Freddy – now Freddy was black, or African American as we say these days- and we were just friends, although at home my brother liked to tease me that I had a black boyfriend. Well one night at the junior high dance I went up to Freddy and gave him a little kick and then I took off and he took off after me, well all my brother saw was that he was after me and all the sudden there he was holding Freddy by the shirt and telling him to leave his sister alone! Wow I didn’t even know he claimed me – but I rushed in and assured him that I started it and we were just kidding around and to let him down gently. This he did and he and his entourage sauntered off. I was embarrassed, but most impressed that I had a brother who would stand up for me!

When I think about the teachers only a couple stand out – there was Mr. Ironside (names have been changed because I no longer remember). If you are old enough to know who Ironsides is then you’ll know why that’s his nickname. Mr. Ironside was the Social Studies teacher and he was in a wheelchair, he seemed older than the hills, and there were rumor’s that he could pop wheelies in his wheelchair, although I never saw it – my brother says he did though. I don’t remember much about his teaching, but he did seem a little scary to me. Then there was my English teacher, who for some reason took a liking to me – don’t know why since English has never been my strong suit- and gave me a paperback book one day out of the blue. He said he knew I was a Christian and thought I might like it “Two from Gailee” – one of my favorite books, and I still have the copy he gave me.

As this happened in the early 70’s there were some not so pleasant memories as well. Integration had begun only the year before in Las Vegas and there were still some prejudices abounding. It seemed that colors ran in packs. One day at lunch my friends and I were walking around outside when this group of black girls found us (I don’t remember what started the whole thing), but we took off running looking for an open door. When we finally found one it was in the English area and we ran inside and ran into the bathroom – with me bringing up the rear- and slammed the door closed. Well apparently they were right on our heels, because momentarily they pushed their way into the bathroom and one of them proceeded to tell me (the last one in) that I had slammed the door on her knee and caused it to bleed. Picture this if you will there’s her and her pack standing close behind her, and then there’s me across from her and then a few feet back are my friends up against the wall as far away as possible. She’s yelling at me and telling me that I have to lick the blood off of her knee and who knows what else. All I remember is thankfully I was saved by the bell, as it was time to go to class. After that we didn’t hang around outside for a while, and perhaps that is why I became one of the fastest runners over the next couple of years.

Things at home were not much better during this time. I remember for my brother Kyle’s birthday we went to see “Jaws”. After that I was terrified of sharks and my brothers knew it (these are my three younger brothers now). I couldn’t even read the novel of Jaws that everyone was reading at school because I couldn’t stand to touch the shark on the front of the book. My brothers found this out somehow and they chased me around the house with this book that had a drawing of a shark inside it. I know this seems really stupid to be afraid of a drawing, but it gets worse. One day when they were chasing me around the house I ran in the bathroom and locked the door. They shoved the book under the door, because they knew even that would scare me to death. When I finally got up enough courage to pick up the book I hid it behind the hamper in the bathroom. Afterwards they asked me what I did with it and I told them I flushed it down the toilet. Now mind you I hadn’t done this, but it made them stop looking for it, the only problem is now my mind had this vision of a shark in the pipes in our home. Every time I took a shower I watched for Jaws to come up through the drain. Every time I used the toilet I expected Jaws to come up and bite me – you know where. Amazing the power of the mind, I could really do myself in with it.

Well I guess that is most of what I remember about junior high except of course all the dances we learned in PE like the Virginia Reel, Hava Nagilia, etc. – When are we ever going to use those again? All in all I survived and went on to high school, where I was a much smaller fish in a much bigger pond and faded into the walls even better, or at least found my niche in the music department.

History of Relief Society

What do you think of when you hear the History of Relief Society?  I think of a small group of women in pioneer times, sitting around quilting, making shirts for the temple workers, canning, etc.  We are also reminded that Joseph Smith would come and teach the Relief Society about spiritual things.  Although this is history there has been alot of history created between then and now.  I don't remember ever being afraid of going to Relief Society - although I was still 17 when I went to college so I didn't attend a home ward until sometime later.  My mother set a great example for me, it seemed that she loved Relief Society.  I remember as a young girl going to Relief Society work days.  The sisters would quilt or possibly other projects and we kids just had a great time playing together.  Then we would eat - I remember that being my least favorite part - it seemed all they liked to eat were SALADS.  I remember my mom making a few crafts or at least we had them in our home, like "glass grapes", but most of all I remember the service she rendered to others through Relief Society.  I have served about half of my married life in Relief Society callings and have been blessed beyond measure.  I have improved upon the skills and talents that the Lord has given me through Relief Society - some of these include woodworking, writing plays, cooking, sewing, and teaching.  I am truly grateful for the heritage of Relief Society that I have been blessed with.  I am grateful to see my daughters who carry on this heritage of loving Relief Society. 
I am excited to study the history of Relief Society throughout the year.  Sister Beck gave a wonderful talk on the importance of the history of Relief Society.  "We study our history to learn who we are. There is a worldwide hunger among good women to know their identity, value, and importance. Studying and applying the history of Relief Society gives definition and expression to who we are as disciples and followers of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Our faithfulness and service are signs of our conversion and commitment to remember and follow Him." Ensign November 2010
I tried to think of one incident where Relief Society has blessed my life, but there are many, from a loving visiting teacher who came over on my birthday and arranged to have my children help her clean my house, to a Relief Society president who lovingly helped me fill out a food order, to the wonderful friends I have made through visiting teaching.  I am grateful that the Lord understood the needs of women and provided this wonderful organization that helps me fulfill my role of wife, mother, and daughter of God.

Beginnings...

Our Relief Society has given us a challenge to journal at least once a week.  I am better at posting than I am at journaling, so I have chosen to use my blog as a once a week journal or faith promoting experience if I have nothing special to journal about.  Hopefully this way my children will have experiences written down by their mother that will help them and their children know that I have a testimony of my Lord, and Savior, Jesus Christ.
This morning I was reading in the scriptures about small and simple things, and how great things are brought to pass, and yesterday we had a lesson on keeping the Sabbath Day Holy.  This reminded me of an experience I had many years ago, when Selina was about 12 years old.  Her and I were headed to Choir practice one afternoon following church.  As we left I realized we had hardly any gas in the big orange van.  I told her we would need to stop and get gas.  She reminded me it was sunday and that the Lord would provide us enough gas to get to and from choir practice.  I decided we would do our best not to get gas.  We made it to choir practice fine, (it was at the Warm Springs Stake Center), but on the way back about 1/2 way home the van died.  I proceeded to switch tanks and the van started up and we went about 50 feet when it again died.  Again I switched tanks and the same thing happened.  We continued in this manner for several miles until we made it home - mostly uphill).  Now I don't know about you, but any other time I have run out of gas (and I have had my share of those experiences) the car might start once, but never more than that.   Later as we were talking about faith in gospel doctrine I related this experience and what I observed is that the scriptures talk about us having the faith of a little child - and here was Selina who had complete faith in the things she had been taught and then there was me who because of the trials of life and seeing that things don't always come out the way we pray for or expect - my complete faith had some doubting in it.  Did I still believe in my Savior Jesus Christ?  Of course and those trials had strengthened that, but they had also weakened my faith that God would always provide when I felt I needed it. (notice the "I" parts)  I think having faith, nothing doubting is the hardest part, and yet the Lord expects it of us.  I do believe that we must do our part for it to be in effect.  For instance I had doubts because I should have prepared for the Sabbath by filling my gas tank on Saturday. The thing I have learned most is that the Lord knows the intents of our hearts and even when we don't always do all that we could, he knows us and loves us and blesses when we do enough!!