My second grade teacher was all sharps and edges compared to Mrs. Cotton, and I remember very little but anxiety and stress in that classroom.
The irony is that I moved schools in first, third, and fifth grades. My fourth grade teacher had a baby in the middle of the year, so my second grade teacher is the only teacher I had all year long.
And I was miserable.
Mrs. Gattis hated Trapper Keepers. And I showed up for school on the first day with a Trapper Keeper. Mrs. Gattis wasn’t that happy with left-handed students either. And I was a lefty.
I say was because Mrs. Gattis tried her best to make me right handed. She kept a ruler on her desk and used it pretty liberally if she caught me using my left hand.
So I used my right hand… when she was looking. I started writing on the left side of the page with my left hand, and the right side of the page with my right hand.
It’s actually pretty helpful now. I can switch hands to write, or apply mascara, or even sometimes when I’m painting. But on the first day of third grade my teacher watched me move back and forth across the page switching hands as I went, and she sighed, crouched down at my desk and took both of my hands.
She looked me in the eye and said, “Jolie. I don’t care which hand you use, but I want you to just pick one and stay with it.”
Not that I hold a grudge (well, maybe a little one) but it’s quite satisfying to tell you that I painted this painting with my LEFT hand.
“Southpaw.” 4×4 Oil on Canvas. $95