Thirty years ago divorce was not what it is today. Oh I am not talking about the legal system or its ramifications. That has developed with the changing times. I am referring to the social attitudes regarding divorce. Back then, divorce was humiliating and shameful. You were a failure. It was all your fault because you didn’t try hard enough blah, blah, blah. That “social status” of “divorce” meant the woman and her children were treated with veiled contempt. You were not required, as Hester Prynne was, to have a bright red “A” emblazoned on your chest but the treatment was somewhat similar. We were outcasts and pariahs. Irene’s comment, made less than 10 years ago, is a reminder that, in some sections of our society, that attitude still exists.
“Jessica your grades have dropped. What is going on?” I asked her. She was in fourth grade at the time. She looked at me strangely and shrugged her shoulders. I could tell I wasn’t going to find out what was going on from Jessica. I called her teacher and scheduled a conference. The teacher was kind enough to come to school early to meet me so that I could get to the office on time. I arrived at school around 7:45 a.m. The teacher was in the classroom. We chatted a little bit about Jessica’s school work. I detected a little hostility but I was awfully tired and stressed out in those days so I thought I was imagining it.
“Jessica is not doing as well as she did last year or even earlier this year and she doesn’t want to come to school lately. Is there something going on with the other kids that I should know about?” I asked. “No” was the response. “Do you have any idea what may be causing this change?” I continued to probe the teacher. “No,” she responded again. I asked, “Where does Jessica sit?” I have no idea why I asked that question. The teacher pointed out the location of Jessica’s desk. It was located in the very last row in the far corner of the classroom. It was the desk that was furthest away from the teacher and the chalkboard. My facial expression must have reflected my surprise. Somewhat sheepishly the teacher explained, “I moved her there a few weeks ago. “Why is she sitting there if she is having problems?” I asked. “Shouldn’t she be in the front of the room?” The teacher had stopped looking at me at this point in the conversation. I pressed the issue. “Why isn’t Jessica sitting in the front of the classroom?” I really can’t remember exactly what the teacher said. I just remember that it made no sense and seemed to be a perfectly ridiculous explanation. I trusted my instincts, for once, and said in a firm voice, “I will expect her to be moved to the front of the room right away.” There was no verbal response although I did receive a brief look of contempt. “I hope I don’t have to go to the principal about this,” I said as I got up and left.
Jessica was moved to the front of the room. She started to enjoy going to school again and her grades improved. Was I imagining the teacher’s hostility and contempt? Was I imagining that the poor treatment was a result of my status as a divorced woman? Maybe. I tended to doubt myself and my perceptions in those days. I still do. Things certainly changed for the better for Jessica after my talk with her teacher. Maybe by confronting the teacher regarding her treatment of Jessica she realized what she was doing. Like Irene maybe she just wasn’t aware of what she was doing. I hope that was the case.
The school Jessica attended was located in a wealthy suburban area which was primarily populated by married couples in traditional households. Fortunately for us, and unfortunately for them, it encompassed more than just those types of families. There were other similar incidents after this one. Eventually I learned to intercede before the situation got really bad or maybe I just stopped giving the teachers the benefit of the doubt. I am a slow learner. My children say I am bit naive. Maybe so. I wish I had learned that lesson sooner. My children may have been spared some pain and humiliation. Must everyone who is different pay a price? Children of divorce may not any longer be considered “different” and subjected to such treatment but others are.
ADDENDUM AND CAVEAT: I don't feel comfortable expressing myself other than through my stories. However several of my readers have asked repeatedly that I do so. So I ask that you indulge me as I humbly offer up some of my feelings and opinions. My life experiences have affirmed to me that we should cultivate an attitude of compassion for everyone. How do we do that? I believe one way is to start living with an attitude of gratitude for all we have and for all that we are. Gratitude fosters an attitude of compassion because when we are grateful we recognize that we did not or could not achieve all we have or all we are without the help of others. (For some of us others include God). We didn't do it all by ourselves. We lose the arrogance of entitlement. I believe, regardless of your religion or politics or belief system, that an attitude of compassion toward our family, our neighbors, our fellow Americans, our fellow world citizens unites us and evokes a softness in all of us which fosters a sense of caring and harmony. It doesn't solve all the world's problems or even our own personal problems but it is a good place to start.
