I was a terrible student. My teachers said I was so smart, but I did not try hard enough. They said that I did not pay attention. That I would not focus on what was going on in the classroom. That I was so easily distracted by any sound or movement. My dad took that as a personal insult to the Spears name. He decided the way to get me to do better was to make me feel worse. His reasoning was simple: inflict enough pain and I would become a good student. It did not work. The more pain he inflicted, the more fearful I became. When my brain saw him coming, it shut off and ran away. Daddy, of course, took that as plain rebellion and inflicted more pain.
Eventually I failed the 7th grade and considered dropping out of school all together. Daddy had given up. He no longer punished. He just shook his head in disgust. His oldest son was simply not interested in learning. I brought my report card home. F's in every square box for both semesters. Except citizenship (whatever the hell that was), I got check marks (whatever the hell that meant). Since it was not an F, I took that as a good thing.
Then it happened.....MRS. COCKERHAM
