True Stories and Real Heroes

I’m LOUD. I speak with my volume way up and I’m trying to address that.
It’s annoying to many people, especially to my Mom when she’s wearing her hearing aids.
I have many theories about my lack of ‘volume control’.
One, is that my 40+ years surrounded by children and babies as a family child care provider, required me to speak loudly and clearly above the understandable chaos.
Another, more likely reason, is that I have so much to say and I want to share and be heard.
Well, those who love to write seem to fall easily into that category.
Don’t be misled by my volume though. I can keep a secret quite well. Sometimes, folks who have prefaced their words with, “Just between you and me…”, are shocked when they realize at a later time, their words truly weren’t ever repeated.
So, secrets are sacred BUT some should not ever be kept.
I listened to Congressional Testimony, yesterday, from four young women who each were molested by one powerfully placed doctor. He was protected (FOR YEARS!) by elite bureaucrats from being removed, charged, and punished. Those young women did not stay silent and were heroes to those who still cannot process their own abuse, as well as, to those who thankfully won’t suffer abuse from that MONSTER.
This reminded me of an incident where I decided to speak up in High School. I was not a hero (which I define as placing oneself in a courageous fight at ones own peril) but my decision not to keep a secret, was a ‘good deed’.

My mother taught at the High School I attended. This gave me an extra level of ‘familiar ease’ with the faculty.
I had a conceptual art class which welcomed an ‘associate teacher’ mid year. He was an odd man who taught us about meditation and horoscopes, yeah, the weird stuff.
On one incident, he leaned over my shoulder and made me uncomfortable in the ‘personal space’ realm. He also took the liberty to brush my hair away from face too. My alarms were ringing but a report on that ‘squirrel’ wasn’t quite necessary, yet.
Well, as an after thought now, I believe he must have found out I was a faculty child and took his ‘advances’ elsewhere because he abruptly started to pay extra attention to my friend.
A few weeks later, that girlfriend had a sleepover at my house. Our late night chat turned to the news that the associate teacher asked her to babysit for his kids. Then, she told me a “secret”. She had gone to babysit and the ‘squirrel’ had really tried to inappropriately touch her when he’d taken her home. She wasn’t sure whether she should babysit again but didn’t want to make him angry. She, as girls often do, thought she might just be mistaken or overreacting.
UGH! I told her to never go back and my direct, alarmed, reaction had her requesting that I promise not to tell, again.
I assumed my friend would be safe and take my advice to just make excuses not to babysit for him, BUT, I knew the ‘squirrel’ would find another target, sooner or later.
I TOLD my Mom. She said she’d handle it and not to worry. (I never told her he’d ‘come on’ to me.)
A few weeks later, the ‘squirrel’ disappeared. POOF! Our art teacher mentioned. ‘reassigned’.
All was well, and I heard not one word about it… actually, forgot about it too.
On the last day of school, we were allowed to walk around getting signatures from friends and faculty in our yearbooks. I asked the school principal for his and have never forgotten what he wrote.
“Best wishes, Susan. Thanks for your help!”
I knew instantly what he meant and realized that I had done the right thing.