Reviving Ophelia - Mary Bray Pipher [148]
“That school sent us the message that we were nothing, we were dirt. Most of my classmates bought it. They gave up their dreams and planned to get factory jobs as soon as they could quit school.
“I was nobody in a school full of nobodies. I was an outsider, a Northerner. I actually got teased because my skin was too light and my manners were too good. After a few weeks I developed a speech impediment. I was trying to sound Southern and I slurred my speech. No one could understand me. I pretty much quit talking for a while.
“Meanwhile, my home life was miserable, Mom was a permanent invalid. My grandparents were well-meaning, but they didn’t understand.”
“What saved you?” I asked.
She pulled out her billfold and showed me a picture. “Sandra saved me, or rather we saved each other. I met her early in my eighth-grade year. She sat beside me in English. I noticed that she knew the answers to the teacher’s questions. One day I asked her if she’d like to meet for an ice cream after school.
“Right from the first we understood each other. Sandra’s dad was an alcoholic too. Her mother worked at the box factory and we had both raised ourselves.
“By the end of that first meeting we agreed to fight the system together. We promised each other we wouldn’t do drugs or get pregnant. I’d traveled with my parents and I knew there were better places to be. Sandra loved to hear me talk about those places.”
She laughed and continued. “We invented this game. I put my finger on a globe and spun it. Wherever it stopped, that’s where we were for that day. If my finger landed in Bombay, we discussed the food, the music, the streets, the weather, the smells and sounds of Bombay. We vowed we would visit all those places when we grew up.”
She put Sandra’s picture away. “We pushed each other to achieve. We knew that the one way out was education. We memorized vocabulary words. We got a list of the classics from a librarian and read those books. We went to every free lecture we could. We were determined.”
I asked her about high school. “By tenth grade, Sandra and I were straight-A students. We broke the curve in every class we took. We sang and were in the student government. We had transcripts full of activities that showed we were well rounded. Then last year we moved here.”
“How did that happen?”
“Sandra’s aunt and uncle said she could move in with them and have her senior year at a good school. She wouldn’t come without me. We share a bedroom. We’re closer than sisters. We’ve promised each other we won’t marry until we get through college. We’ve divided up all the good schools so we won’t be competing against each other for scholarships. But we’ll stay close through college. We’re family.”
Since Caroline was a young girl, she had been determined to be the best at whatever she did. She had remarkable survival skills. In the language of popular psychology, Caroline was a “parental child.” But as her life demonstrates, that’s not always bad. Her experience left her responsible, achievement-oriented and able to take care of herself in any situation.
Often in stories of teenage girls, the relationships between girls are ugly and destructive. Margaret’s story showed the harm girls do to each other. Caroline’s story was different. She and Sandra helped each other survive and eventually escape their stormy environments. They helped each other stay focused on their dreams and optimistic about their futures.
Both June and Caroline lacked what we call today “emotionally available parents.” June’s mother was dead and her father insensitive. Caroline’s father was absent and her mother was mentally and physically ill. This absence of parental support made it clear that, from the beginning, they had only themselves to depend on for happiness. That’s a lesson all girls must learn.