Friday, November 20, 2015

Spirit of a Southern Belle Part 6: The Blue Binder

After Paw died life went on, as it does. I entered high school and my schedule became even more crazed. I was still fully committed to competing with my studio, but I also joined my school's dance team, the Jazz Cats, a team name that imbued all sorts of innuendos from the boys. We rehearsed and competed regularly in addition to dancing at all the football games and pep rallies, plus there were all the social engagements that were a must in order to survive these awkward years - school dances, parties, dating, and generally just figuring out who my friends were and weren't. I also got my first job when I was sixteen - my allowance was no longer cutting it and the costume expenses were mounting. I was busy, but I still visited with Mawzy when time allowed. We'd play Gin Rummy at her kitchen table or I'd go shopping with her at Tuesday Morning. Our trips to the Alabama country house lessened, as did my time exploring my imagination in that enormous yard. I was growing up.
LA State Champions, Sophomore Year
During my sophomore year I wrote a bunch of poetry, mostly teenage angst stuff, and kept it in a blue binder. That thing went everywhere with me, until the day it went missing. I had no idea where I could have left it, but I searched every nook and cranny for weeks. As it turns out, my little sister had it the whole time. She liked my poems so much that she wrote her name on scraps of blue post it notes which she then taped over my signature. Over 30 post it notes! She was 10 then, and no doubt thought this was a discreet stroke of genius. This was cause for sibling war back then, but today, it's pretty damn flattering.
Homecoming 10th grade (my favorite dress ever, given to me by my godmother, Aunt Carol, with sparkle straps & jewelry by Mom)
Mawzy caught my lil sis with the binder and returned it to me directly, but not until after she had enjoyed a little light reading. It's not often you stumble upon a gem like that, and she, like most of us, could not resist the temptation. I remember feeling upset and ashamed that she was now privy to my innermost thoughts and feelings as I navigated the tricky road of young adulthood. At that time in my life I rarely let anyone read what I was writing, and here were the most personal bits of my journey exposed in emotional detail.

Naturally Mom wanted in on my business then, too. No way in hell was that happening! Mawzy had told her that she thought I had talent. When Mom shared that little tidbit with me my feelings of embarrassment transformed into an innocent confidence. Mawzy was someone I looked up to, so a compliment from her held real value. I was fifteen then, highly impressionable and deeply inspired when I felt supported, a feeling that has remained with me throughout my life.

After the lost and found binder incident, Mawzy gave me a number of journals to write in. She'd hand them over to me with the expectation that she'd get to read them when they were full. I never let her. Turns out, I didn't have to. We would go on to have many heart to hearts as I blossomed into a young woman. I came to learn that my innermost feelings of happiness, sorrow, anger, confusion and peace - all the things that make me human - were safe with her.

The journal I carried with me through Europe the summer after my freshman year of college. A gift from Mawzy.

To be continued...