A Visit to the Merry Old Land of Oz (12th Post)

In 10th Grade, I reconnected with a friend Anne, whom I had first met in catholic grade school. After we graduated from grade school, Anne along with the rest of my friends, choose not to attend Catholic high school. Therefore, they all opted to attend public high school. I was thrilled to see her again. During our reunion and catch-up conversation, I described to her my experiences of misery and suffocation at catholic high school. Anne, in turn, discussed her experiences of fun and freedom in public high school. I was so envious of her experiences. She had captured my full attention.  Before we departed and went our separate ways she presented me with a brilliant idea. She suggested on the next catholic holiday, when my school would be closed, to arrange to spend the day with her at her public high school. All this adventure required was a visitor’s pass. I was ecstatic at the idea of this unexpected field trip. I rushed home to discuss the plan with my parents.

Reconnecting with Anne that day had been an unexpected gift. There was to be another unexpected gift that day. On my speed-walk home, I rehearsed my plea to my parents. To my surprise when I discussed my request with them, they agreed with very little lobbying needed on my part. Whatever caused them to agree I will never know. However, I was very relieved by this unforeseen twist of fate.

As the reality of their decision sunk in, I realized there would be a bonus. On the appointed day of my visit, I would be allowed to wear civilian clothes instead of my same old,” same-old-uniform.” I was thrilled at the thought of playing dress-up and spent hours deciding what to wear for this upcoming special occasion. 

In the movie “The Wizard of Oz,” the main character Dorothy lives in Kansas. When she was in Kansas the movie was filmed in black and white. When Dorothy leaves Kansas and arrives in the merry old land of Oz, that part of the film is shot in technicolor. This film technique mirrored the feel of my visit to her public high school. I did not have a yellow brick road to walk on, however, I did have a yellow school bus to ride in.  

The morning of the visit I left my “black and white” uniform in the closet. I happily dressed in my chosen “technicolor” attire. During the 20 minute walk to Anne’s school bus stop, I was wracked with anxiety. Even though I wanted this opportunity, it was an unknown. The unknown part scared me.  We boarded the bus and found seats to sit together. She introduced me to her friends on the bus. Everyone was welcoming. Their warm welcome helped reduce my anxiety. I found this to be such a good start, and as the day progressed it only got better. The atmosphere on the bus was alive with adolescent energy, talking, and laughing. However, I felt overwhelmed by all the noise and excitement. When my TBI brain is overwhelmed by the intensity, I immediately want to flee the situation. As luck would have it, my desperation skills of watching and observing kicked in. My skills calmed my desire to leave. In spite of feeling overwhelmed, I was delighted to be surrounded by so much wonder, colors, antics, and a community to absorb. 

I use the word community for several reasons. Up until that bus ride, I had felt isolated.  For example, my parents had restricted our interactions with the neighbors. Our neighbors appeared to be a friendly lot. They socialized frequently and extended invitations to our family to join them. However, my parents declined and also did not extend any invitations to the neighbors. Also, at catholic school, the genders had been separated and discouraged from interacting with each other. All the students dressed the same and followed directions as dictated by the nuns. Thus, I had very limited exposure to the complexity and diversity of the human spirit. Now while sitting on the yellow school bus I was fascinated by all the dynamics. I realized I would finally be able to experience what being a part of the neighborhood felt like. I had faith there would be more experiences of the kindness of strangers too. With the help of my “scarecrow” Anne, I was anxious yet ready to explore the merry old land of Oz.

We arrived at the public high school. Anne had put out the word to my former friends from catholic grade school that I was coming for a visit. They were all there to greet me. I was very happy to see them all again. After a brief reunion, Anne and I headed directly to the school office to obtain my much-anticipated visitor’s pass. The school office was bustling with the activities of adults. Unlike Catholic school, it was different to see more than just female teachers. My apprehension dissipated once I realized there was no lurking Mother Superior. That was the title given to a nun principal aka - “The Wicked Witch of the West.” Instead, the Principal of the school actually came out of his office to welcome me. His easy manner helped reduce my bubbling-up anxiety. We left the school office and entered the boisterous school hallways. I found the hallways to be chaotic, yet, there was a strange order to all of the chaos. “Scarecrow" Anne was my tour guide. She pointed out the teenage “cliques” as we called them back in the day. They were: the Hippies, Straights, Garage Bands, Artists, Jocks, Cheerleaders, Science Nerds, Math Wizards, Druggies, Drinkers, Marching Band members, and the Choir. The Principal had also given me a list of all the clubs and activities. I found it exciting to see so many options of expression of the human spirit. I was particularly attracted to the Hippies. I wanted to have their big floppy hats, bell-bottom jeans, beads, rings, and other elements of their attire. 

In every class, I attended the teachers were so welcoming, which helped to reduce my uncertainty and ever-present anxiety even more. I was surprised to see the boys were not all seated at the front of the class with the girls seated behind them. In each classroom, I would sit wherever there was an empty seat. In the first class I attended, I made quite a first impression. I found an empty seat next to Larry - a friend of Anne’s. Most of the other students had been entering the class or conversing with each other. Larry and I had been deep into a conversation when I heard a bell ring out in the hallway. I cut my sentence short, immediately stood up, and faced the front of the class. Then folded my hands in the classic prayer form. My heart started pounding inside my chest. My eyes were totally glued to the teacher. Everyone stopped talking. 

The students looked at me, then the teacher, and back to me again. The confused teacher looked at me with questioning eyes. Larry, still seated, lightly touched my arm and said…. ”um, what are you doing?” I was bewildered and could hardly hear his words over the loud sound of my beating heart. Still standing in a ridged formation, I looked down at him and said “the bell rang, so we pray and start class.” Larry smiled and requested I sit back down at my desk. Larry, “The Tin Man” kindly explained the bell meant that students still out in the hallway needed to get to their classroom. He said the teacher would tell us when class was to start, and then we would stop talking. His words and manner helped slow down my racing heart. I was, however, alarmed at understanding I had been conditioned just like Palov’s dogs. I also realized with deep relief, there were other ways to get a student’s attention besides harsh discipline. It was at that moment I realized I was the “Stranger in a Strange Land.” Afterward, I said to myself - “Self” we have been through night terrors and other horrible challenges, we are“The Cowardly Lion” we can be courageous today. Feeling more relaxed and confident, I realized my exhibition was pretty funny, and I was able to laugh with Larry about my snafu. There are rare times in our lives when we meet an amazing part of ourselves we did not know existed. That day I did things that both surprised and delighted me. Prior to that day, I had only noticed my TBI personality. Somehow, during my visit, my damaged brain demonstrated I had other character traits, not dictated by the TBI. This had been the first time I noticed the outgoing side of me. This day was unlike any other school day I had experienced. Nothing bad happened. To my delight, I had had only new and exciting experiences.  Consequently, this visit to a public high school will always be a treasured memory to me. 

I realized by the end of that school day I was utterly and completely exhausted. Unbeknownst to me, due to the TBI, my brain was drained from constantly being challenged to function like a non-damaged brain. I did not know I had been functioning on pure adrenaline. Before Anne and I boarded the yellow school bus to go back home, my friends encouraged me to join them and attend public school. I did not need any encouragement. I had already decided I would begin to lobby my parents to allow me to transfer to a public high school. Unlike Dorothy, I was not homesick and did not want to click my ruby slippers to return to catholic school. I wanted to wear the ruby red slippers to explore the merry old land of Oz.  E.B. White had written, “Always be on the lookout for the presence of Wonder.”  Early on in life, I learned the value and mystique of “Wonder.”And I was always on the lookout for Wonder. Wonder helped me to survive the horrific symptoms of undiagnosed TBI. As I sat on the yellow school bus, I realized I found the wonder that day, and I desperately wanted to continue to be a part of it. At that point in time, I did not know choosing to walk on the public school yellow brick road would completely change my life. The merry old land of OZ, “public school,” would nourish my desperation skills and result in a roadmap that would assist me in navigating my life in spite of the undiagnosed TBI. Like Dorothy, I had no idea what I was in for. The symptoms of TBI and PTSD always made me feel like an outsider. I wanted to find out if this yellow brick road would lead me to discover ways to fit in. I hoped the yellow brick road would end in finding an “ Emerald City” community. Also,

 I wanted to end the loneliness I constantly felt. I wanted to be a fascinating character in the merry old land of Oz.