IF I KNEW THEN… April 30, 1964
On this day in 1964, I was a seventh grade dork, running for Class Secretary.
Although I knew that I would lose, I hoped for a miracle. Alas, it was not to be. When the ballots were tallied, Robin was the new Class Secretary and I was the unpopular loser. All of my construction-paper campaign posters, the hours devoted to honing my speech, came to naught. My life would be forever tainted by this humiliating loss.
But guess what? If I listed my top hundred terrible, tragic experiences, this crushing defeat wouldn’t make it. It might not make the top two hundred. The ache in my gut and crying jags didn’t last a week. In less than a month, it just didn’t matter that I wasn’t elected 8th grade Class Secretary. While it’s true I never campaigned for anything again, that’s not much of a loss – for me or mankind. The day it happened it hurt like hell, but it just wasn’t important in the overall scheme of my life.
I’ll try to remember this next time I lose something I desperately want and can’t live without. The truth is, I will survive. I’m still here. And before I know it, it just won’t matter.
This will be my format for upcoming blog posts. Once or twice a week, I’ll post a diary entry from between 1964 and the present, a photo if I can find one, and my thoughts on what it all meant given the benefit of hindsight. Diary selections will correspond to the date the blog is posted, but will not be chronological. I have thousands of hand-written diary entries – I might as well use them for something.
Robin Rutan Russell April 30, 2016 at 4:32 pm
Oh dear…. this was me! How sad that I don’t remember giving any consideration to your loss! I may have, but probably not. I was probably over the moon happy with my win, and totally self-absorbed. I think I have grown to be a better, more insightful and caring person, thank goodness. Funny how things hurt so much as a kid – and silly things still hurt as adults. We still, naturally so, attribute more importance to the lesser important things than we should. As a kid, those things can break our spirit. I’m glad you still have a beautiful, dynamic one, Kathleen!