Monday, January 2, 2012

Anger Management

When we returned from Paris, France in 1965, I was a freshman in high school.  Moving back to Doyline from Paris was a huge adjustment, to say the least.  I was so nervous the first day of school.  I remember looking at the old yearbooks from my earlier days in Doyline when I was in the 3rd to the 6th grade. I looked at the teenagers in the yearbook and I thought that I had a jump on their fashions by wearing a pair of bobby socks with penny loafers. I didn’t realize that times and styles would change.   
It didn’t take me long to figure out that I missed that by a long shot. I quickly took the socks off and went bared legged the rest of the day. It was a horrible first day.  As I got comfortable with my new surroundings, I brought my own style to Doyline all the way from Paris, France. I started wearing earrings and so did they. I started wearing fishnet stockings and so did they.  I was feeling pretty good about everything.  I was starting to fit in.
The cafeteria at the school was included in the same building that housed the gymnasium.  We were lining up for lunch one day and I happened to be on the opposite side of the gym door.  I overheard Coach Roach speaking to another teacher.  Coach Roach was a wonderful basketball coach. He took the basketball team all the way to State that year.  Everyone liked him. He had such a kind demeanor.  I thought the world of him.
As I stood at the door, I could hear their conversation. It was about me. I was excited at first. And then I heard Coach Roach say “Christine would be a fine student if she didn’t have such a bad temper.  She is such a hot head.”  Those words stung. I pretended that I didn’t hear them. It was hard finishing out the day at school.  His words kept playing over and over again in my head.
When I got home, we had supper and I went to my room to cry.   I was so hurt. How could he say those things about me? I thought he liked me? I thought I had a great relationship with all my teachers.
Doyline had some wonderful teachers.  Miss Mary Stone, my typing, bookkeeping and shorthand teacher; Jimmy Smith, my English and drama teacher; Mrs. Carolyn Burton, my home economics teacher; Mr. Bill Crider, my math teacher; Miss Eloise Sanders, my history teacher; and Coach James Roach, my PE teacher.  I could not have been luckier to have had these fabulous teachers guide me through high school.
While lying in bed that night, I couldn’t help but think that maybe he was right about my temper.  He wouldn’t say anything unkind about anyone if it wasn’t true.  I cried myself to sleep that night still pondering what I could do to correct this obvious flaw in my character.
The next morning I got up and began to think what could I do to change?  I picked up a rubber band off of my dressing table and put it around my wrist.  I have a great idea I thought. Each time I see myself getting angry, I’ll pop myself with the rubber band and count to 10.
I went to school that day on a mission to change my behavior.  From one incident to another, I caught myself in time to pop the rubber band and count to 10. I was successful that day and for the next two weeks. 


At the end of the two weeks, something surprising happened.  I had dressed out for PE like I had for the past year.  At the end of the class, Coach Roach approached me.  He put his arm around my shoulder, looked down at me and said, “Christine, I don’t know what you’ve done these past two weeks, but you are a different person.  You have turned into a sweet girl. Keep up the  good work. ”


That was it! I had succeeded in managing my anger. I had turned a corner.  

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