Losing my green card...

Growing up, I was a very talkative child. I was the kid in school that was hardly ever in trouble, but if I was in trouble, it was most likely for talking. When I was in elementary school, they had a card system. There was a large bulletin board at the front of the classroom and on it was a pocket for each student with their name largely written across it. Each pocket had a green card, a yellow card and a red one. Each time you were in trouble, the teacher made you walk to the front of the room and pull a card out and slide it in the back. You had three strikes, then if you got in trouble again, they sent a note home.

This was important because every day you went with your green card in front, you received a ticket that you could use to redeem prizes.

I tried to be good, I really did, but I was blessed with the ability to talk. It didn't matter who they put me with, I would talk. Almost every day, the teacher would catch me talking while she was teaching or talking when we were having "quiet time". Every time, I had to walk to the front and pull a card.

When it was time for the end of the quarter, my parents would come to the parent-teacher conferences, which always scared me. I knew I never did anything really bad, but the teachers always told my parents the same thing. They would tell my parents what a great kid I was, how well I did in my classes and how I had lots of friends. Sounds great doesn't it? Then they would have to ruin it by adding the word but to it. It was always something like "but, she really has a problem with talking. She gets in trouble really often for talking and even though we've spoken to her about it, she just can't seem to help it."

That was really the only complaint they had, I was mostly a good student, but I was the kid that just couldn't be contained for too long. I liked to talk and to run and I always looked forward to gym and recess, so I could get up, run around, and talk without getting in trouble.

My parents would often notice how all the kids had stickers and tickets for the end of the quarter prize drawing, but I would be lucky to have 10 tickets and stickers. They would always wonder why I had so few, and over the years they got used to the teachers telling them that I talked too much. One day, my mom and I talked about how I had always got into trouble for talking and how I never got to leave my green card in front. I told her "Mom, I'm pretty sure that after a while, mine just stayed on red. I'm pretty sure the teacher just took away my green card, because she knew it was useless."

I think my mom got a pretty big kick out of the fact that I thought I had my green card taken away. I guess in a way it really was a green card, because every time my teacher sent home a bad note, I just knew I was going to loose all my privileges. I knew, that once I showed them the note, I'd pretty much be under house arrest. As a child, I didn't get into trouble much, but I'm sure my parents were a little worn out with hearing how I talked too much. Any gray hairs my parents have, I'm probably the "root" of the cause.