Another Door of Hope, another door closed.

Finally, a special reading class, a class for kids that can not read. I was really excited about the class. The teacher was different, he was well educated, refined, expensive clothes and car, it even had running hot water, he was mysterious, an expert, like a doctor, or so it seemed. He may have been, the closest I can describe him as I remember him is the hero of 'Have Gun Will Travel.' Why would such a successful man work with losers like me.

Life became hopeful and exciting. I can still see, feel, and hear the sights, objects, and sounds in his classroom. It was open, no desks, no lecturing, not prison like rules and regulations. We could be ourselves and work on our own projects. He went around to all of us, about a dozen kids, and coach personally. I loved it. I tried my best. I was in school heaven. Life was looking up. I was dreaming of becoming a human scientist, it would all be possible now.

He did wonders, for other kids. He went over all the pre-reading skills with me. I knew them already. He walked me through all the materials. I did fine. We gave speeches. I did ok. In other words there was nothing he could teach me. I could read, sort of. I was able to do so at least awkwardly for odd short periods of time for odd things. But why not for everything, why not all the time. If I could read a passage why could I not do homework, it was like my spelling tests in grade school, mom would go over them all until I could spell them all and I would go to school and flunk the spelling test. I could remember the concepts in Good Earth, why not history? I passed his class and flunked at reading and doing homework. A door opened and closed. I was back in the halls alone, getting lost, going to uneventful classes that are mostly a blur.

I wanted to take biology, algebra, and geometry. But I was refused, partly because I was a girl but mostly because I was an underachiever, that was my label since grade school. Anyone who worked with me sincerely tried, but they too failed, failed to help me. What a hopeless feeling. Its bad enough to be a failure, but when those around you can not help you, where is the hope. Surely High School would be better, wouldn't it? I was soon to find out.