Frau as they called her, turned out to be more than just a German teacher. She served as a counselor for the girls, listening to all of the torment they endured from their former teacher.
She was an American, who spent a few years in Germany. She understood the problems that young girls have when trying to learn German. She was funny and full of life, but most importantly she was fair. It was amazing what happened to the grades. Louise blossomed one of the best in the class. The teacher, Frau, took the time to give her extra help in the mornings before school started.
Louise needed extra help in most classes. She didn’t understand why school seemed so easy for the other students.It was difficult for her. It always had been.
She found school boring. Sometimes she would learn something that interested her, then spend hours on homework/project that seemed like minutes. She always got the top grade in the class when this happed.
She often wondered if she was a genius suppressed by the walls of school and the rules of the institute.
Louise loved to learn. Not necessarily the things that she was told to learn, when she was told to learn them.
But there was so much work to do. It left little time for the things Louise wanted to learn, such as sewing, cooking and mastering a number of crafts.
More than ever she wanted to find answers to many Question that swirled around in her head.
Questions such as: how to salve world hunger? how to write a novel? what is love? who is God really? what does eternity mean? how to grow a garden and be 100 percent independent from modern society and money?
She figured going to school was just a part of life that she has to get through. She pushed these desires aside until she was an adult. Then she would have the freedom to learn what she wanted.
Little did she know that adult life leaves less time to figure out the answers to these questions. Nor did she know that in the years to come she would be so busy just trying to survive that all of these things would take the back seat.
But most surprising of all, these questions never completely faded away and managed to guide the driver through her sub-conscience which formed Louise to be the person she is today.
At least this school was better than the public school she went to a few years ago. She took a moment to think back on the first day of class in the 7th Grade.
Louise pictured herself getting off the bus just as she had 3 years ago. She watched the scene from overhead as if watching herself in a video.
Louise noticed how quiet she was compared to all the other young teens. The only other girl in the crowd wearing the new dress code of white top and black pants walked next to Louise. It was Niesha the first friend Louise had in the new school.
Niescha talked loudly almost yelling an introduction to some of her friends. Louise was glad to have met this little bundle of laughter.
She had been very nervous about her first day of school. She knew from Kelly, her sister, that it would be different from anything she had yet experienced.
Louise noticed many other kids glancing at her, letting their eyes scan from head to toe. Louise tried not to make eye contact, but was so fascinated by the way these children were behaving, that she couldn’t stop herself from staring.
The other prisoners of the system were jumping around, yelling, and running not paying any attention to whom or what they ran into. There was a dark feeling in the air, as if Louise had something to be afraid of.
She didn’t know what to be afraid of but the feeling lured in between the crowd. It slithered like a silent influenza epidemic.
It grabs you before you know it’s there. And slowly kills you from the inside.
Louise shuddered not wanting to remember the numerous moments she had become afraid for her life that year.
She opened her eyes and shook her head, trying to shake the memories away.
© Rebekah Schmidt and Ten Years in Germany 2013, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rebekah Schmidt and Ten Years in Germany with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.