In the Beginning (Part 2)

Did I really say “the beginning”? Yes. Because I remember all of it—every struggle. My coordination was poor. In preschool and kindergarten, I practiced dropping marbles into a jar to build my motor skills. By second grade, I still couldn’t use scissors properly.

My classmates cut out designs and glued them neatly onto their artwork. My creations looked more like a lost, unfinished Picasso. And the glue? It usually ended up on my clothes instead of the paper.

Second grade was also when we started learning cursive. The teacher would announce practice time for everyone—except for Paul and one other. Who was the other? Only the most unpopular kid in the entire grade. Please don’t pair me with her! I thought to myself.

The only thing more embarrassing was reading aloud. The teacher would call on us at random. I prayed to be invisible, but my prayers rarely worked. When she said my name, anxiety hit faster than an unannounced fire drill. I stumbled over words, skipped others, and sometimes replaced them with my own. I must have been a spectacle.

Every day reinforced the same message. Above the chalkboard hung pictures of birds ranked from greatest to least. Our names were placed on the bird that matched our reading level. A few students soared with the American Eagle—the mightiest of them all. Others perched on the hawk, the blue jay, the redbird, or the pigeon. And me? I was all the way at the end… under the Dodo bird. Thankfully, I wasn’t alone—Ms. Unpopular was a Dodo too!

We also played “Around the World” with multiplication flashcards. I loved the game, but I never made it far. My grades were mostly C’s, with the occasional D. Spelling tests were a nightmare. Somehow, I passed second grade and moved on to third. But after talking with my new teacher, my parents decided it was time to test me for possible learning disorders.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

John 1:1