When I was 4. I used to go to Sunday School. It was fun. I thought. We sat in inward facing circles with children of our own age with about six children in each circle with space for a 'teacher'.
One Sunday we were singing a hymn. I have no idea which one but presumably one suitable for young children. At some point I opened my eyes and realised that no-one in my circle was singing except me. So I stopped singing.
When we finished The Teacher leading the Sunday School called me up to the front of the hall. My circle was one of the nearest to her so I didn't have very far to go.
"Why did you stop singing?" she asked me.
"Because everyone was looking at me." was my lame, but I assume truthful, reply.
"What makes you think you are that important?" she responded and sent me back to my seat.
That was about 75 years ago and I can remember it as if it had happened yesterday.
It was an unspeakably cruel thing to do do to a child that age and at the time it stung and made me self conscious and, of course, made me the butt of teasing for a good while.
On reflection though it was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me. I rarely get embarrassed when something potentially embarrassing happens to me I automatically remember her words and realise that, in reality, no one is looking at me. Everyone is far too concerned with their own world.
That's so sad. Why do that to a little child?
ReplyDeleteJabblog, back in "those days" I think the general attitude of teachers to children was very different. I was fortunate in that I had fantastic supportive parents.
DeleteSo mean of her. At least you now know that you are indeed important, Graham.
ReplyDeleteJayCee, we are all important in our own way.
DeleteShe made a bad choice of words to give a child or anyone at any age. You've made that ill wind blow good.
ReplyDeleteAdults were cruel to children back in the era of 1960+/- as the norm. I think we were treated as chatel not treated fairly or with much compassion.
Maywyn, many teachers were certainly pretty barbaric in their approach although some were brilliant. I was fortunate in having very loving and forward thinking parents.
DeleteIt seems to me that this cutting remark was especially cruel given the context of teaching children about loving, with platitudes such as “Suffer Little Children to come unto me”and other aphorisms from an allegedly holy and incontrovertible text. A pox on that woman. A teacher she may have been, a Christian she was not. The fact that the affront has stood you in good stead has no bearing on the despicable nature of her conduct.
ReplyDeleteDavid, my experience of 'Christian' teaching as a child were probably a major contributor to my alienation questioning of Christianity even though I didn't realise it for many decades.
DeleteI remember being told to stand up straight or else I would end up round shouldered.This was in Sunday school.She ended up being my stepmother!!!
ReplyDeleteBarbarax
Hi Barbara, that does not sound like a Sunday school matter to me.
DeleteFor some reason I can't figure out, since a couple of days I'm unable to log in as usual to comment on some blogs (including this one, now, it seems!), while it's still ok at others. Trying an alternative option here and am going to just try and send this comment to see if it works, before I write any more...
ReplyDeleteWell, it looks like you were successful, Monica.
DeleteThat is a bit amazing to me, though my experience wasn't upsetting, but helpful. When I was worried that everyone would be looking at me (my hair, my dress, etc.) my mother would say, don't worry, no one is looking at you, Nancy. And of course, they weren't. i was just so self-conscious when I was little, and those words made me feel better.
ReplyDeleteNan, that sounds like a positive parental approach in the circumstances.
DeleteOK, logging in by 'url' seems to work even though unnecessarily complicated... Here goes then: I have a similar story although sort of the opposite. I went to Sunday school for a year or so in childhood, with a friend across the street from me. My own parents weren't churchgoers, but I think my friend's mum was a Sunday school teacher. I must have been around 6, I think, because I was able to read. On one of my first visits (maybe even The First?), we were supposed to be singing a song from a song book - but I did not yet have one. And the song was new to me as well. So I just kind of pretended to be singing along. This, however, was soon detected by some other smart little kid, who was quick to inform the Teacher: "Miss, she's not singing, she's just moving her lips..." I don't remember the teacher's response to the situation, but I felt mortified... Because how was I supposed to be able to sing along when I did not know the song, and didn't have the book? I did eventually get my own song book, though - I still have it. Went in search of it now and found it. An inscription inside says: "From Sunday school, 17.12.1961". Yep, that fits with med being 6 at the time... :) I'm not sure how long I attended that Sunday school, but because of the date in that book, I guess I must at least have lasted at least one term. I probably quit when I started real school, the next autumn, though - because that first memory is really the only one that still lingers! (Later on in my mid teens, I got involved in a church again, though. Even sang in a gospel choir for a while in my youth... So was not quite traumatised for life - but those kinds of experiences from early childhood do tend to continue to kind of haunt us, don't they!)
ReplyDeleteMonica, the fact that you recall it all so clearly is a good indication of the effect it has had on your life.
DeleteThat was a very unfortunate way to address your concern and it's all in the delivery. I have said to adults "nobody is worrying about you because they are too focused on their own life" Similar message, different feeling.
ReplyDeleteI remember singing in a junior choir where a slightly older girl told me to "stop making that nasally noise"
I thought she was obnoxious then and i still think it was an obnoxious thing to do.
Kylie, I'm never quite sure whether it is ignorance (of how to treat people) or vexatiousness when people say things such as the "nasally noise' comment.
DeleteAlthough the lady was very mean , you learned something out of a very bad situation.
ReplyDeleteThat is indeed true, Red.
DeleteYes, a nasty remark to make to a child which hopefully would not be made today.
ReplyDeleteAndrew, I wish that I had your faith.
DeleteThere is a group that sings about 'Good Monsters'. It sounds as if your church lady was one of them. What a awful thing to say to a child! She certainly seemed to feel self important.
ReplyDeleteDebby, after all these years it's been quite cathartic to read the comments but I still wonder what on earth possessed her to single me out.
DeleteThose who make an individual statement, whether it be by singing, acting, or even pontificating, are more than likely to be admired. They may tease, but probably they secretly admire.
ReplyDeleteIndeed, Cro, I take your point.
DeleteIt is amazing how comments like that can stay with us for our whole lives, Graham! Not a very "Christian" response from her. I've given up on religion many years now as so much of the teaching wasn't loving at all.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you've turned the comment around to make it help you in your life.
Thank you, Ellen.
DeleteOh yes, I remember many incidences like that, I think people back then were more cutting with their comments and it's sad really, it's the sign of an angry generation. Life is too short to bring other people down.
ReplyDeleteI agree with you absolutely, Amy.
DeleteGosh, teachers could be so cruel and thoughtless in those days, I was on the receiving end of a couple of similar ‘bon mots’.
ReplyDeleteAt 4 years old I very much doubt you thought you were important, just naturally a bit self-conscious. You have the last laugh - living well is the best revenge, xx
Indeed, Jayne, I'm not sure how much things have changed but for me the long term lesson learned was beneficial.
DeleteI've often wondered why some people feel the need to be cruel to children (and animals but that's beside the point). Because you are you, you could eventually benefit from that woman's nasty tongue but most people would not. I've always remembered with gratitude the nun who let me know my enthusiastic singing was not appreciated by all with direct eye contact and a "shush" finger to her lips, then the suggestion that perhaps I could learn to make the sound of the wind in the background. I got the point but my dignity was intact. I hope that woman of your youth did not damage too many youngsters with her vitriol.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Pauline. I. wonder now why she did what she did so who knows what she went on to do and say. The odd thing is I can remember absolutely nothing else about the years I spent going to Sunday School.
DeleteYou make a good point but isn't it funny how moments like the one you described can stay with us for a lifetime?
ReplyDeleteIndeed it is, YP, and, as I said to Pauline, it's the only thing I recall from all those Sunday School years.
Delete