Mrs. Mason - My own Mary Poppins (9th Post)

In the catholic grade school I attended, the physical and emotional abuse from the nuns was equally distributed to both girls and boys. In addition to abuse, there was also neglect. Both abuse and neglect result in seriously traumatizing the victim. As a result, the victim is plagued by low self-esteem, lack of boundaries, and serious relationship issues. Additional results of abuse include feeling isolated, fear, lack of trust, shame, helplessness, and hopelessness. Additional neglect issues may also include dysfunctional social and attachment skills, poor physical health, inability to set or recognize boundaries, limited self-care skills, feeling invisible, and feeling unworthy of help.


The nun’s neglect was gender-driven. In the classrooms, the boys always sat up front, the girls in the back. More attention, time, and praise were bestowed by the nuns on the boys, and they mostly ignored the girls. On the playground, the nuns provided athletic equipment for the boys to use. The girls brought their own jump ropes or stood around in groups and talked amongst themselves. These types of behaviors demonstrated by the nuns are evidence of neglect and sent the message to girls they are not worth the effort. These behaviors also sent a message to the boys, suggesting it is acceptable to treat girls in this manner. Sexism is not endemic. Sexism is created and maintained as all isms are.


Complicating all of this, due to the TBI, I was still floundering with relationships. So, being alone was one way I took care of myself.  On the playground, I focused on finding a way to hide my TBI personality. Therefore, I volunteered to be one of the safety patrols. The job of the safety patrols was to prevent students from entering the school before recess was over. I choose this as I could still be involved without being a part of the group. However, due to the undiagnosed TBI, I did not know my frontal lobe damage had resulted in not understanding some social cues. Added to that challenge, the brain damage had also produced the symptom Anosognosia - the lack of insight concerning an existing deficit. So, there I was working so hard to try and fix myself, yet unable to recognize the mistakes I was making. “Autocorrect” was not in my brain’s wheelhouse. Bless my little childhood heart. I had sincere intentions to change, however, I was handicapped from creating success. The abuse and neglect I witnessed, and/or personally experienced in catholic school, waylaid my mission to solve the puzzle of me. Also, the atmosphere in school did not support my efforts to create additional desperation skills. I felt sad and frustrated to not be able to realize the goal of my mission. The school atmosphere lacked diversity, stimulation, and healthy role models. I was too young to know what I wanted to be when I grew up, however, I was really clear I did not want to grow up to be abusive or neglectful. In school, I could not find an adult I wanted to emulate. Sadly, the nuns did not demonstrate any behaviors I could add or adapt to my collection of desperation skills. I did learn avoidance and how to placate - behaviors to survive the nuns. Many years later in therapy, I learned how to replace those behaviors with healthy and protective responses to abuse and neglect. 


In 6th grade, I encountered an unexpected gift for my mission. On the first day of class, a lay teacher, Mrs. Mason, entered the classroom.  I was so relieved she was not a nun. As the actor Bill Murray stated in the movie Groundhog Day- “anything different is better,” that would sum up my exact feelings. Mrs. Mason turned out to be an anomaly within the catholic school system. Unlike the nuns, she was kind, patient and really seemed to like and enjoy her job. Fairly soon in our acquaintance, I learned she also paid attention and cared. One day, she took me aside and discussed the social cues I could not grasp or was even aware of.  However, for each problem, she presented a solution.  Honestly, I did not understand a lot of what she was saying about the missed social cues as I thought I had been acting like my peers.  However, I was elated she had solutions. 



Mrs. Mason wore eyeglasses for reading. When she was not reading she used her glasses like a magic wand. She would use her glasses as a pointer and to enhance her hand gestures when talking. I did not wear glasses in grade school, however, I bought a pair of eyeglasses at the local Dime store -now currently known as the Dollar Store. When talking with others, I would use the glasses to point and accompany my hand gestures. I wanted to be like her. She was kind, helpful, and stable. An imitation is a form of flattery and attachment. At that time in my life, stability at home and school were sorely lacking. And I knew my brain also lacked stability.



By the time I met Mrs. Mason I had evolved into a big fan and ardent believer in the kindness of strangers. I listened to her with full attention and wonder. I knew I was stumbling around in relationships, and I was desperate for assistance. I absorbed her words faster than a sponge absorbs water. I did not underhand exactly why I should do x, y, or z, however, I did them and they worked. Learning and application take time. I am happy to report that by 8th grade I had a small secure group of friends and 2 boyfriends competing for my attention. I concluded Mrs. Mason was my own personal Mary Poppins. She was a magical woman who created an easier world for a broken child like me to live in. 


Now and then I think about Mrs. Mason.  She is a lovely and precious childhood memory.  I believe Mrs. Mason and Mary Poppins are Guardian Angles in heaven, having the most wonderful conversations while sipping on English Tea. And, on occasion, they come down to earth to create magical moments to bless the lives of broken-hearted kids like me.