Irrepressible Spirit

There are certain people we encounter in our lifetime who always find the humor in situations, no matter how humiliating, no matter how embarrassing. I often wonder what it takes to possess that quality. Do I need thicker skin? A stronger sense of humor? How can I laugh at myself if I'm so red I'm hiding my face? I want that quality. I want to be a secure, strong person.

Steve Rydezwski was one of those people you meet whose irrepressible spirit refuses to leave your memory. Steve and I attended kindergarten at River Grove Elementary. The classes were small, about 20 students in each. This gave each of us the opportunity to really know one another well. Sometimes, more than we wanted. The first evidence of Steve's strength of character that I saw was in first grade gym class.

It was too cold on this mid-winter Wisconsin day to play outside, so Mrs. Ebert lined us up against the gym wall with our scooters. I loved the scooters. We would fly recklessly across the gym floor, narrowly missing one another, screeching with delight when we would crash.

Steve and I were headed directly toward one another. A crash seemed inevitable. I tried to steer away from him, knowing I would be the loser in the collision, but he barreled down upon me. I looked left, searching for a quick way out. Nothing. I glanced right -- other collisions just waiting to happen. No way out.

The only thing to come between us was Steve's finger. Seeing him jumping up and down, shaking his hand and wailing, was too much. Others sooned joined me in the laughter and all Steve could do was add to the hysterics. We were uncontrollable, and Steve was worse than the rest of us. In the melee, he wet his pants. This only caused us more delight. It was first-grade chaos.

Back in the classroom, clad in his borrowed, over-sized pants and hooded, zip sweatshirt, Steve attempted to amuse the class by tightening the hood around his face, pulling his arms inside the shirt, and swinging the sleeves side to side. The furious Mrs. Ebert decided she had had enough of his shenanigans. She unzipped his sweatshirt, turned it around and zipped it up the back. She then put the hood over his face and tightened the string.

And Steve sat there.

We went to the restrooms after snack.

And Steve sat there.

We practiced our alphabet in the early afternoon.

And Steve sat there.

We tended to our incubating eggs and fed our pet lizard.

And Steve sat there. All day.

He didn't complain. He didn't whine. He sat there and took his punishment. He knew he had crossed the line and was willing to accept responsibility for his actions. Even though the teacher was embarrassing him, he knew that he had been wrong.

And the next day, when a new opportunity arose, Steve was right there again, leading the rest of us in the hysterics.

To return to my home page click here.