What’s something you’ve created that you feel especially proud of?

I still feel a slight twinge at the injustice of it all. Without evidence, Mom attributed the drop in my letter grades in Geometry and English to getting my driver’s license. Confusion in Geometry and boredom in English were just as likely causes. Besides, what was her evidence?

My logical arguments (I learned that in Geometry) were fruitless. Mom was the prosecutor, judge, and jury in this matter, which resulted in curtailed driving privileges. Dad was the friendly bailiff and would back her up. I gave up when she used her tone of finality, indicating the argument was over.

Though it didn’t change anything, I was vindicated when we registered for the next term. Miss Scollay, my English teacher, recommended I take Honors English the next term, despite my lower grade. Mom, maybe I was bored?

The Junior curriculum was English Literature. In the seventies, English literature was the study of great white male British authors. Such was the case in Mr. Sweet’s English Honors class. One difference in the accelerated English class was that we read (and were expected to understand) Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales in the original Middle English.

We had no translation to help us discern Chaucer’s fourteenth-century meaning, but we had Mr. Sweet. When bewildered by the enigmatic language, he skillfully led us from confusion to understanding. There was no time for boredom in this English class.

For our final, or was it the midterm?, I selected an option from a list provided. I would apply myself and write a tale in the style of Chaucer. Oh, how I loved that assignment! But oh, how I did struggle! I wrote and rewrote in Iambic Pentameter, seeking to give my Modern English tale the rhythmic feel (if not the Middle English) of Chaucer.

I don’t recall the grade I received for that particular assignment. If the course grading criteria were how hard I worked, how well I applied myself, and how much I learned, I would have earned an A for the term. I received a B.

I burst with pride about that B.

I don’t recall what my parents said about my B, but I remember the stellar pride I felt. Fifty years later, I remain prouder of that B in Honors English than any other grade I received in high school. I earned that B, really earned it, by embracing my creativity, spending hours writing, and putting in more sheer hard work on it than any other class in my high school career.