Columnists
When I go to schools and talk to the children about coping with the challenges of growing up, they all seem to have the same fears.
Some of them are fearful of being rejected by peers or loved ones.
Some of the children are afraid that they will be teased or talked about.
Many children told me that I probably would not understand because I had a pretty smile or a nice face and that everyone would like me.
I always make sure I tell those children the story of Miss Anne.
When I was about eleven years old I started going through a growth spurt and found out I needed braces all at the same time.
I was tall and very, very thin and the braces that I wore back then were thick, heavy metal bands that went around my teeth. It was difficult to eat and sometimes even more difficult to talk.
I had a crush on one of the cutest boys in the sixth grade. He was tall for an eleven year old and he had a sandy brown afro and deep round dimples in his cheeks.
His name was Donald Adams and I was smitten by him.
Once after I got my braces, I went over to him at school and told him hello. When I smiled his face grimaced and he told me that I was ugly.
My heart sunk and my stomach became upset.
I make sure to tell the children how rejected I felt and embarrassed.
On the way home that day one of my neighbors who was in high school at the time walked by me. His name was Jimmy Jackson and he always took time to speak to me, even though he was about 16.
“Hello, Ms. Anne,” he would say to me, as Anne is my middle name. “You know you are going to be such a FINE lady when you grow up, because you are such a cute little girl now.”
He told me that every time he saw me. However, that day it really meant something.
I felt beautiful instead of ugly, I felt accepted instead of rejected, all because of the kindness of this young man.
I don’t know how he was able to see beyond my awkward stage and metal mouth, but some how he could see beauty in me and maybe more importantly, that I needed to hear that I was lovely.
To this day, I still think about how Jimmy would pick me up just by making that statement time and time again.
I never took the time to tell him how special that action was and how much I appreciated it. We moved away and I have not seen him in 25 years.
I hope he is well and if I were to see him again, I would tell him thank you for taking the time to encourage me, when I needed it most.
So whenever, I am speaking to those children, I tell that story and they look at me with their mouths wide open in amazement.
They see me as a grown woman who has outgrown the awkward stage, but the story lets them understand that I was young once and I too had some of the same fears they have. I started writing books and my column to encourage others.
Then I tell them: “Now, you go and encourage someone today, just like Jimmy did for Miss Anne.”
Thanks for sharing.