I remember the event well. I was 8, maybe 9. I can remember this age because for a year and a half I had a stepmother (she was 18). I had been struggling in school for over a year and hated the mere idea of having to go and fail over and over again.



My father was going to take us swimming in the middle of the week, which was an event because we never did anything on a school night. It was most likely because it would take me hours to do my homework and my father was always too tired. On this day though he was taking us swimming. Not to a pool mind you. Well not a real pool, one of those apartment building 10X20 foot ones. No matter that’s not the jest of the story.



The event I’m recalling is, well from the time when Dad came home to the time I cried my self to sleep or cried until my eyes can no tears left.

I haven’t finished my homework, as I would often be the case by the time he was home I was often just starting it. My stepmother like to gossip with neighbor and when my sister and I came home from school it was time for us to help her (do her work for her.) My sister and I would gladly do the dishes, vacuum and the whole deal of trying to make the house looked like my stepmother had worked hard all day cleaning house. I said gladly because if we didn’t we’d first get yelled at my “mom”, then she would tell Dad we don’t do anything around the house and we’d hear from him. The biggest reason, the reason a child can relate to and reason with thought was…. Most have guessed. So we wouldn’t have to be kept up after being sent to bed by our “parents” fighting.



Back to the story. Well same as every day I wasn’t finished my homework. He was more then let say a little angry. He through my books across the table; calling me every word for stupid. Then commanded his dinner. Obviously a stressful event, hard to eat or be forced to eat when you’ve just been degraded. So again I’m at fault. By the end of dinner I’m in a state of nothing less then fear.



Let me have a short diversion here. My father yell a lot, he may have used words that no one should use toward a child. He would call me stubborn when I’d get afraid or confused about anything. He would stand over me when I was trying to do homework, mostly math work. He would tell me that I must be stupid for not seeing the answer that was “right there in front of your nose”. For all the things my father,did, he didn’t not hit us. Emotional abuse very possibly. Verbal to an extent maybe, but never physical.



Back to the event. We get into the car and drive for a time that wasn’t long enough for my soul to recover from dinner and way to long for my father who hated going out during the week. My father ignores me for most of the evening. Good in a way that I’m having to deal with him, but clearly ignoring me out of displeasure not distraction. The part that I remember though is going home.



My sister, Step Mother and I change and head to the car. You may think it odd that three females can change quicker then a male, but you didn’t have the fear that we had. He’s mad and if we are not in the car but the time he’s out we may A. get left behind or B. the worst one. Piss him off more.



So I’m sitting in the back seat, the one right behind the driver. Maybe a stupid child, but smart enough to know the right behind him I can see him, he can’t see me, hide beind the head rest and avoid the rear view mirror. And the most important one for my mind at the time. The arm can’t bend behind the seat when he’s seating. I guess my Dad knew that too. When he came to the car, just before getting in he did something I will never forget. One thing I can not accept anyone doing to a child. He approached the car, close enough to my window that only I could see him, or my sister if she happen to be looking that way (she wasn’t). He shook his fist at me. Violently. Not the kinda way you’d do to some jerk who cut you off in traffic. No, in a way you’d do to some one who killed something you loved. That fear didn’t leave me until I left home.



I went home stay up late forced to do said homework and most likely didn’t sleep that night, more likely cried until I feel emotional unconscious.







I’m remembering these things now as I am on quest to change the things I don’t like about myself. Find out what has made Ravena the Ravena I am today. The side note to these is I was put in ESL classes in grade 2 and by the time was in grade three every one just thought as my father did I wasn’t trying in school or I was just stupid. Yes they didn’t have the training they do now. But they gave up to early, sold me short of possibilities in school and well I’m lucky I finished high school but only barely. When I was 22 or so I went to do some upgrading for school. After doing very poorly on an equivalency test, they didn’t give up. I was sent for more testing. I was tested and finally past a test sorta.

I was explained that I learn differently and I had disablity. Well for some it would be bad news, to me it explained it all. So after getting extra time for reading, access to computers and other devices to help those who have trouble with spelling and math. Due to this little test, I graduated College. Yes this surprise my family who to accepted I was stupid. In the end most people only need to hear a few words from me and they would never use any words that ever meant stupid or unclever, dim witted the list could go on, my father could tell you a few words. I can't they don't belong to me.