Using My Words

While I was going through my baby book to find the names of the two nurses who caught me when the doctor hadn’t arrived at the hospital yet the morning I was born, I came across some other treasures my mom and I have saved over the years:

My mom’s and my hospital bracelets we wore when I was born.

A card for my mom and me from my Walt, who was almost 13 when I was born. He wrote in it: “You’d better name the baby Sally Sue Spencer or I’ll be darn mad.” My mom compromised and named me Sydney Sue Spencer. Until I got married and finally got to drop the damn Sue and go by Sydney Spencer Logan. Much better.

In my baby book was also a card with yellow roses on it from my brother Murray (age 9 ½) and my sisters Marty (almost 11) and Hazel (7 ½). The handwriting is the same on all the signatures, so I assume my Marty wrote all their names on it. She chose a pink colored pencil for Murray, blue for herself, and purple for Hazel. Yellow roses are my favorite to this day.

There is also the announcement card from the hospital which has my “stats” on it. The hospital bracelet I wore when I had my tonsils out at age four. A certificate (that is stained with chocolate, which I had been eating at the story time party) that states: “This is to certify that Sydney Spencer has completed six months of pre school story hour October, 1975 through April, 1976 at the Washington Park Branch Library.” It is signed “Auntie B” by the children’s librarian, and printed under her signature it says, “Alyce B. Hougas, Librarian.” I LOVED Auntie B. I went to three different branches of the St. Joseph Public Library, and Auntie B’s was my favorite.

Another certificate that states: “This is to certify that Sydney Spencer is a ‘Dragon Slayer’ First Class in the Summer Reading Program of the Mid-Continent Public Library. There’s no date on it, but it has to be from sometime between 1977 when we moved to Kansas City North and 1983 when we moved to Johnson County Kansas.

They’re all wonderful treasures, but the one that makes me laugh and which I think is most telling of my innate personality is the report card stuck in my baby book for safe keeping from Mrs. Millicent Noobin, my first grade teacher at Renner Elementary school in the R5 school district in Kansas City, MO. At the end of the school year she wrote on my report card to send home to my parents:

May 30, 1978
“I have enjoyed having Sidney (sic) in my class. She has been a good worker. She is still easily upset and cries at nothing, but is doing better as we only have tears once in awhile. I think if everyone would discourage her instant outbursts she will learn to tell her problems without crying first.” Bitch always misspelled my name.

Cries at nothing? Who gets to decide what constitutes “nothing” when it comes to the emotions of a seven year old? I understand it’s beneficial to encourage a child to verbalize her problems, but calling a child’s emotions “nothing” is a bit narrow-minded and cruel. Needless to say, when I remember Mrs. Millicent Noobin's face, it always has a frown on it. But she didn’t say I shouldn’t address my problems, only that I should “tell” them without crying first.

So you, dear reader, have Mrs. Millicent Noobin to thank for encouraging me to “use my words” as child development experts say today.