backyard crowing
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verbal abuse and teaching - and a letter to myself, from him
Sometimes I think of my mother, and, well -
She grew up with her mother, who was sometimes abusive and harsh. She was an alcoholic, and my mother said living with her was like walking on eggshells.
Then my mother had me, and she would yell sometimes, and her temper could get out of hand. Sometimes the eggshell thing applied when I was growing up, too.
As an adult, my mother has said to me, "You were a very sensitive child." And, well - also a sensitive person.
So I think it's very possible that my well-meaning mother came down hard on me because of her upbringing, and the fact that she is less sensitive than I am.
(Lack of sensitivity is a great trait for go-getters, and humans in general! When you feel terrible, you MUST keep going. That's life.)
So when I sit here crying about a professor I had last semester, I have to think: if he had any idea the effect he had on me, he never would have taught that way or said those things. He would have acted entirely differently.
He just doesn't know. He did what he thought was best, and it just - wasn't.
And I wish I could talk to him, to reconcile somehow. I wish I didn't hate him so much, that he didn't haunt me even now that I never see him.
So this will be him, to me.
"Z, I'm so sorry I said those things. I want you to be successful. You were a great student. You're going to make it, you have the hard-working personality it takes to make it in this industry. I believe in you. You're going to be fine if you keep it up like this. I never realized how hurtful it must have been hearing me say those things. I didn't realize how much you wanted this, or even how many hours you spent trying to make these cuts perfect. I hope you don't give up, and I hope I hear your name in the future. You have the patience and dedication to craft that directors want. It's going to work out. Take a deep breath Z, and keep going. It's there for you, just keep reaching for it."
9:04 pm - Sunday, Feb. 14, 2016
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