It was the fall of 1969 and I was in the 6th grade. We were sitting in our Social Studies class with Mrs. Goergen. She was like a breath of fresh air to many of us. First of all she wasn’t wearing a habit and secondly we all felt like we could relax in her class. She literally showed us the world and opened our minds. Unfortunately, since we had begun “departmental” program we only had her for social studies. Departmental meant we switched classes and had different teachers for different subjects to help us get ready for high school. It really was sort of comical. The little nun with her bell would come out and ring the bell. We lined in single file-no talking and switch classes across the hallway. There were 8 classrooms for 8 grades in this school. 5th through 8th grade switched classes. Under Mrs. Goergen we studied the Constitution, Latin America, Russian Communism, World War I and II, the stock market and current events of every kind. We talked about the year “2000” and she said she probably wouldn’t be around for it but we would only be in our 40’s. I remembered thinking first how sad it was that she was eventually going to die and then thinking -my 40’s-I’ll be like ancient! I can still remember her standing in the front of the class in her plaid skirt and Georgette chiffon blouse all tied up with a bow and those God awful old lady shoes. She had a deep voice with a hint of a southern accent. I always thought she came from Georgia but maybe that’s because her name sounded like that. We were asked to bring in newspaper clipping about current events and after we discussed them they were promptly pinned to the bulletin board. Over the four years we had articles about the 1968 Olympics and Black Power Salute, President Nixon holding up the peace symbol for Peace with Honor in Vietnam, the Munich Olympics and the terrorist attack that ensued and the one article that had the most impact – Neil Armstrong walking on the Moon. Man had gone to the moon in the summer of ’69. Anything was possible. Mrs. Goergen would say “Each and every one of you has a bright future. You can be anything you want to be. Even the President of the United States or an astronaut like Mr. Armstrong”. That’s when the little engine that could started down the track for me…I think I can…I think I can……I think I can….
I was sitting in the corner of my horses stall weaving a piece of clean straw through my fingers babbling on and on to my closest confidant. I could tell her anything. Everytime I would say “Penny isn’t that right”? she would flick her head up out of the hay bin, snort a bit, stomp her left back leg and swish her tail. That was a “Yes she totally agreed”. I could tell all my secrets about the boys I liked, how much I couldn’t stand my Mother, even talk about my girlfriends and the answer was always the same. It was every pre-teen’s dream. I decided right then and there I was meant to be with animals. They were not complicated to understand, they loved me and life would just be a whole lot easier not having to deal with humans. So I set a course to be a veterinarian. I had been to summer camp and learned, I thought, all there was to learn about the horse anatomy and I was a close observer to everything the veterinarian did, even assisting him when I could. I mean I was a natural-how could this go wrong. 8th grade came and the counselor came from the high school to set us up with classes for high school. I swiftly and proudly told him what my plans were. He then outlined the course studies I should take over my high school years. Calculus, Chemistry, Geometry, Biology, Physics —WHAT????? It was hard blow …the little engine was beginning to run out of steam….
Switch gears…I loved to sing. That is an understatement. I LOVE TO SING!!!! My earliest memories of my Mother was her sweet soft voice singing me to sleep at night. Growing up in seemed me and girlfriends were always singing. There were plays and recitals and Mass. We sang silly songs on the playground. We sang to amuse ourselves, to soothe ourselves and well just to hear ourselves sing. I played the organ and sang. My biggest thrill as a little girl was playing O’er the Waves in front of Larry Ferrari on the Organ. I even got his autograph. My cousin sang and played this humongous horseshoe-shaped organ for a living. I sang and played for my brothers friends (which were way older than me)-my brother said “maybe with the right acoustics?” I sang for my boyfriends all the time-sappy songs like Olivia Newton John’s I honestly love you” They would say maybe a back up singer? If there was a band that had a microphone at a party I was grabbing it and bellowing out Peter Frampton’s Do You Feel like I Do. This pre-dated Karaoke. I was in the my high school Chorus but not a stand out by any means. I sang a scale for her and she placed me the “altos”. I was a soprano. I was sure I was. Then came my big break. Every year the band held a spring concert. Mr. Sutnik, the band director-nice guy, very bad toupee, had gotten my name from somebody that I could sing “Send in the Clowns by Judy Collins”. The little engine started…I think I can… I was to audition for him the next day in the band room. I went home-sang that song in the shower, jump on my bed and grabbed my hairbrush and pretended I was standing there with this beautiful flowing long dress with a scarf around my forehead singing my heart out. I think I sang it in my sleep that night. I could hardly concentrate the whole day in school-the song just played over and over again in my head. Finally it was time to prove myself. I sat next to him on his piano bench, heart pounding. He played the melody, I opened my mouth and just a tiny screech came out.. Isss n’t it…my eyes filled up. He said just relax and will start again. He didn’t get “again” out before I was gone. Chickened out…Where was my 20 seconds of Courage? I couldn’t let him down though. I found a senior girl who looked a lot like Carly Simon and kinda sounded like her too. I went that night–she was beautiful. Just like I pictured myself.
Switch gears…And there was a time when I thought I could be a cartoonist. They always had this advertisement in the magazines about “can you draw this cartoon”. So I did and they thought it was swell. I had Talent! I remember making my Dad build me a drafting table and I dreamed of living in NYC, suave and sophisticated with my kerchief tied around my head like Rhoda Morgenstern from the Mary Tyler Moore Show. When I was in college I took a Fashion illustration class and my professor really took a shine for me. Well I thought in was my artwork. Turned out it wasn’t.
The little engine that could is still roaring down that track to this day with everything I do. Thanks Mrs. Goergen! Shall I be a Baker, a Photographer or a Story Book Maker?
laurasmommy 