by Donna Swagerty Shreve
In 1958 the day had finally arrived. I had asked, pleaded, cajoled enough until my mother had agreed to take me shopping for my first bra. As an eighth grader, I was convinced that every girl in the entire school had a bra except me. I stood out at five feet eight inches and felt enough of a freak already. I was beginning to develop but a lack of a bra was more a problem socially in my thirteen-year old mind.
Mom and I headed for Smith and Lang in downtown Stockton. We took the elevator to the second floor for lingerie. Just my luck an older woman (older than my thirty nine year old mother) walked up to be our saleslady. She had the figure most describe as “powder pigeon.” She had enough stuffed into her bra to make both my mother and me amply endowed.
The first humiliation came with the fitting. I was told to strip to the waist. Then Miss Powder Pigeon went to work. After checking her measurements at least twice, she then parted the curtains to the dressing room. I am cowering in the corner covering myself as she yells to her associate behind the counter across several rows of merchandise.
“Mabel, do we have any 38As in stock?”
“No, just 36As. We could give her an extension.”
I was beyond mortified. She finished me off with, “Are you athletic dear?”
“Yes, I do swim on a team.”
“Oh well, maybe, when you stop swimming you won’t have such a problem.”
So I returned home with a modified bra and a bruised ego. Now all of the neighbors knew of my big milestone in life as my mother was now accepting her little girl was growing up and wanted to share.
At least now I could have a bra strap showing now and I fit in a bit better. There seemed to be so many new rules with puberty. My body continued to change and form and I struggled to keep pace.
My body embarrassed me once again in eighth grade. I was in my English class and I can still remember the teacher’s name as she burns in my memory as being so insensitive. With horror I realized I needed to get to a restroom immediately to protect myself from a newly gained female problem. I quietly went up to Mrs. Schneider and asked if I could please be excused to go to the restroom.
“I don’t give bathroom breaks. Get back to work.”
“But this is an emergency!”
“No bathroom breaks!”
“I feel ill and don’t want to throw up in class!”
“Oh, well, why didn’t you say so sooner!” Ellen, please walk to Donna to the bathroom. She is ill!” This was announced to the entire class.
By now a few boys in the front row seats are giggling. I was furious and humiliated. As soon as Ellen and I were outside in the hall wall, I explain to Ellen the real reason I needed to use the bathroom and I didn’t need her help. She turned around and returned to everyone’s least favorite class. After several minutes, I returned to class and again I was the object of everyone’s attention. Mrs. Schneider wanted to know if I was feeling better. Again the giggles began as I slunked to my seat mortified. The last thing I wanted was the whole class’s attention again.
That evening as my family shared our day at dinner, I mentioned my horrible incident in English class. Dad was furious and had quite a chat with Mrs. Schneider the next day before or after the school day. Dad explained to her that a young girl asking to use the bathroom in eighth grade should not be questioned as to why and she should use a bit more understanding in the future. My father’s office was housed on the same campus as the seventh and eighth grade classes. He was the high school principal at the time and was an imposing figure at six feet five inches. I probably had a free pass from then on in Mrs. Schneider’s class. I don’t remember ever having to use such a privilege again in her class but I will admit some pleasure when I knew Mrs. Schneider was not hired for the following year.
Some how I survived puberty growing another two and half inches with many other transformations to my body. Every now and then a distant memory will bubble up and remind me of the awkward years. My memories prepared me as a teacher of eighth graders and I never restricted students from the bathroom unless they blatantly abused the privilege.
Swagerty-Aldrich Family Web Site 