Someone I used to know, and liked.
Sep. 12th, 2004 11:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenAnyone who's been reading this journal from the beginning might remember my writing on occasion about the last year of history I took, back in 2002. I like history, both as a subject and as material for my own reading, and I was genuinely sorry not to take it at A-level (Politics won out, in the end), giving it up after my GCSEs. The point of this is, my History teacher at that time was Mrs Miller. Not Miller as in ColvinandMiller who teach Chemistry, but another one. I liked her; I've scrolled back and I think it did come through in what I wrote then. I thought she was not much like any teacher I'd had before, and plus it was the smallest class I'd ever been in (there were eleven of us) but I was quite sure I liked her.
A month ago now, Patrick called to pass on a message from his mother (school librarian, Mrs Barry). Put quite simply, Mrs Miller is dead. She had a massive brain haemorrage and died more or less instantly. I was really shocked - she was young, much too young for something like this to happen - and I liked her, I really did. Miss Brandreth, the new headmistress, delivered a speech regarding the "tragic event" on our first day back - wonderfully insincere, because of course she'd never even met Mrs Miller.
Well, I had. I'm one of the few people left whom she actually taught. And I've been asked to "write a few words." I'm flattered. I am. It's nice to think people trust me to do it. But I've sat there for two hours now, staring at the page, tearing it off the pad, screwing it up, throwing it at the wall and starting again. Now of all times I have nothing to say, except I liked her and I'll miss her and that's only seven words.
She was lovely - quiet, never confrontational, she didn't turn a hair when people told her the most significant cause of the Second World War was the Big Bang. She seemed genuinely disappointed that I dropped history, and she used to stop me in the corridor and ask how I was getting on, had Mr Evans killed me yet, and did I mention I liked her?
Well, it's now midnight, almost, and I have written nothing. I'm having a very bad day, I've had a very bad week, and I feel much too out of it to write this. It can go on the pile with my personal statement, my Oxford application essays and my English coursework under the category Things Raven Has Not Done.
This is stupid. Or, possibly, I'm stupid and am going to fail everything because I can't do anything. Can't even write something about someone I liked. Can't write, full stop. Can't do anything.
A month ago now, Patrick called to pass on a message from his mother (school librarian, Mrs Barry). Put quite simply, Mrs Miller is dead. She had a massive brain haemorrage and died more or less instantly. I was really shocked - she was young, much too young for something like this to happen - and I liked her, I really did. Miss Brandreth, the new headmistress, delivered a speech regarding the "tragic event" on our first day back - wonderfully insincere, because of course she'd never even met Mrs Miller.
Well, I had. I'm one of the few people left whom she actually taught. And I've been asked to "write a few words." I'm flattered. I am. It's nice to think people trust me to do it. But I've sat there for two hours now, staring at the page, tearing it off the pad, screwing it up, throwing it at the wall and starting again. Now of all times I have nothing to say, except I liked her and I'll miss her and that's only seven words.
She was lovely - quiet, never confrontational, she didn't turn a hair when people told her the most significant cause of the Second World War was the Big Bang. She seemed genuinely disappointed that I dropped history, and she used to stop me in the corridor and ask how I was getting on, had Mr Evans killed me yet, and did I mention I liked her?
Well, it's now midnight, almost, and I have written nothing. I'm having a very bad day, I've had a very bad week, and I feel much too out of it to write this. It can go on the pile with my personal statement, my Oxford application essays and my English coursework under the category Things Raven Has Not Done.
This is stupid. Or, possibly, I'm stupid and am going to fail everything because I can't do anything. Can't even write something about someone I liked. Can't write, full stop. Can't do anything.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2004-09-12 04:21 pm (UTC)I don't know, maybe this is just me, but I think you're on the way to finding something to say already -- "...she didn't turn a hair when people told her the most significant cause of the Second World War was the Big Bang" is the kind of detail that I'd say would be... effective, you know? ("Effective" isn't the proper word, but I can't think of anything less objective and unfeeling at the moment.) It's very personal and concrete, and that's how to set about remembering someone.
Which is to say, I wish I could help. I'm sure you'll figure something out. You rock. And other vaguely platitudinous things that I nevertheless mean wholeheartedly.
no subject
on 2004-09-12 04:34 pm (UTC)-I like the paragraph you've got just there. I think that says a lot, sweetie. I'm sorry to hear about that though. Special teachers are hard to find; they're the best kind though. :'(
xx
no subject
on 2004-09-12 08:20 pm (UTC)In the meantime, you're not stupid as you well know :P. Don't fret excessively about having trouble writing; unless you're one of the very lucky people like me who tends to perform best under real time pressure, you'll only upset yourself more. *hugs* Besides, writing is tough. As if grammar and spelling alone weren't enough, you have to make it ELOQUENT as well.
But as to the few words for Mrs Miller, don't worry excessively about them. A few simple, heartfelt words can mean a thousand times more than a word-perfect speech that people feel they need to clap when it's over and done with. Besides, if you're asked to write, then write what you feel; other people can deal with their own feelings. *hugs*
As to the personal statement stuff, don't worry. I'm sure it'll come easily once you've got the first statement down; it's like selling yourself, only without the STDs! Though "I am great. Accept me." wouldn't make the best beginning ;). Just let them know what a fascinating, hardworking individual you are, and subtly hide the slash behind terms like 'writer' ^_^. Oh, and if necessary, lie to include something about teamwork. They're ALL about the teamwork these days >_<.
But, yes, at least next week ought to be better. *huggles*
no subject
on 2004-09-12 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2004-09-13 01:31 am (UTC)You're not stupid. You'll find something to say, some way through this. I'm here if you want to talk-- I'll be in every evening this week, so if you want to call me that's a fine plan from my point of view.
no subject
on 2004-09-13 09:25 am (UTC)*mwah* That made me smile.
I have taken your advice and mostly rewritten this entry for the short piece I wrote, complete with the line about the Big Bang. Life is not as bleak as it seemed last night. :)
no subject
on 2004-09-13 09:26 am (UTC)I've used that paragraph as the basis for what I eventually wrote, because it seems to say something. I'm feeling better about the whole thing now. :)
no subject
on 2004-09-13 09:33 am (UTC)And this:
it's like selling yourself, only without the STDs!
is just perfect. Hee. Thanks for the teamwork tip - that's something no-one had mentioned before.
no subject
on 2004-09-13 09:33 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-09-13 09:34 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-09-13 10:02 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-09-13 10:43 am (UTC)I'm glad you feel a little better now. it must have been a shock *hugs*
xx
no subject
on 2004-09-13 10:26 pm (UTC)I'm glad you're feeling better hon. Once again, you're welcome to it all. And that is one /pretty/ icon of you with the roses! *hugs*
hello
on 2004-09-14 10:09 am (UTC)