The Lesson

By: Pat Procko and Rebecca Scotka

Her name was Patricia, but everyone called her Patty.

Patty was the only girl in her entire family... except for her mom, of course. To make matters worse, almost all her cousins were boys. And, of course, her brother was a boy. She had no sisters.

But that was okay. Patty was happy. Her family – she, her mom and dad, and her little brother Pete – lived on the top floor of a two-family house in a seaside Connecticut village called Niantic. There was lots to do in Niantic.

Patty had a bike, and since the world was simpler in those days – safer – Patty could ride her bike to the movie theater in the heart of the village, lean her bike against the building, and see a movie all by herself, if her besties Ellen and June were busy. And her bicycle (painted pink by her dad) would still be there when Patty came out of the theater after the movie. If you were a kid, a ticket cost twenty-five cents.

In the summer, their mom would take Patty and Pete to the beach at McCook’s Point every day. Patty taught herself to swim. Little Pete played in the sand at the water’s edge. Both kids went with their mom up the hill to McCook’s Park where there was a big old house – the McCook House. There was an ancient, out-of-tune piano in the entryway. The kids pounded on the keys while Mom was in the restroom. Afterwards, a Dairy Queen.

School was wonderful. Patty walked to and from Niantic Center School every day, from Lincoln Street, down Hope Street, over the railroad tracks, past the shoe factory. She would always remember the teacher who taught their class to read. Phonics: Sssss is for snake. S. Mmmooo is the sound a cow makes. M. And on through the entire alphabet. What a thrill when she could finally read an entire book by herself (even if it was only in simple words about Dick, Jane, Sally, and Spot). The public library in those days was on Main Street, not far from Center School. Patty read everything she could get her hands on – who knew? Perhaps she would write stories someday herself. She and June competed to see who could read the most books.

In the winter, a marshy wooded area not far from Patty’s backyard froze into a winter wonderland, perfect for little kids to skate on since the water was so shallow. They called it The Hollow.

When winter turned to summer again, Patty traded ice skates for roller skates and took off down the neighborhood sidewalks.

Life was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Patty’s parents couldn’t afford to buy a house in Niantic. They were tired of renting, and dreamed of owning a home of their own. Then they learned of a housing development being built inland – in a pretty little Connecticut country town – where military veterans of World War II could buy a new home without needing a down payment. Pat’s dad had served in the Army Air Force.

They moved.

Everything changed, and in Patty’s opinion, not for the better.

Patty loved the beach. There was no ocean in her new town.

Then her mother became very ill, her dad was working overtime to pay the bills, and Patty’s body began to change. She had many questions, but who would answer them? Mom was in and out of hospitals, her brother was happy-go-lucky but still little, Dad was hardly ever home, her cousins did not live nearby, and she had no friends in this strange new town.

She withdrew, into herself. She spent more and more time alone in her room, reading. Seventh grade was over. Summer came and went; and then, eighth grade.

Eighth grade meant another, different school, in the same pretty little town, a little closer to the river. Here, instead of switching classrooms, all the subjects were taught by one teacher: English, math, science, geography, history, and art. One teacher, one classroom, one group of entrenched kids – loud, confident, and carelessly cruel, operating within the dictates of herd mentality.

Teachers – even those like Miss Loretta who were capable of teaching competently in all those subjects – are not immune to cruel kids with a herd mentality. What is that, exactly? Let’s look it up:

Herd mentality, also known as mob mentality or crowd mentality, refers to the phenomenon where individuals in a group often adopt behaviors and attitudes that differ significantly from their own personal beliefs or morals.

In this case, bullying.

Why would they bully an experienced, competent teacher like Miss Loretta? My guess? She was not young. She might have been pretty when she was young, but now she was old, with thinning hair dyed dark in defiance of a world that didn’t care, of students who laughed at her out-of-style clothes.

Days came and went. September. October. Something called the Cuban Missile Crisis happened, which Patty would remember as a gathering of scared kids, led out of their classes, standing in bewildered groups in the school’s parking lot. Middle schoolers trying to get their heads around it. Adults with not a clue as to what to do about the threat of nuclear war.

The threat passed. Life went on.

Patty’s life was lonely. Just trying to get through one day at a time, she wasn’t aware that she was turning into a young beauty. Her hair was ash-brown. Her eyes were quiet green. She immersed herself in books. She got straight A’s. The seasons changed in wonder around her. Animals, with their soft brown eyes, trusted her. Approaching summer sent dragonflies to her windowsill.

Miss Loretta took notice of the quiet, lonely girl, and wondered. One day, she brought flowers into the classroom; well, not flowers, exactly. The plants are called Chinese lanterns. They have bright orange seed pods shaped like lanterns and yellow-green leaves. Miss Loretta handed out drawing paper and crayons. She pointed to the colorful bouquet in a vase on her desk and said, "You have twenty minutes. Draw."

As she turned and walked back to her own desk, her students snickered. Patty did not. She wondered, “Why have you assigned this wonderful task?" And then lost herself in the task. The minutes melted away. A small bell tinged. Miss Loretta arose and once again walked among the desks.

The students yawned their boredom, looked at the clock on the wall, stared out the windows, their crude drawings, each on the desk of its crude artist, waiting.

Miss Loretta paced through the room, paused at a desk, went to the next desk, looking. On to the next, searching. The class grew noisier, anticipating the end of this lesson.

Miss Loretta stopped. All at once the atmosphere changed, charged by the triumph upon her face. She reached for the drawing upon Patty’s desk. Without a word, she held it up. On low-grade paper, using only crayons, Patty had rendered the Chinese lantern bouquet. Perfectly.

There was no sound in the room.

The lunch bell rang. The moment vanished. The students stampeded to the door. Miss Loretta watched them without a word, but to Patty, she said, "Stay."

The room quiet, she closed the door and said, "Come here. Your drawing is beautiful. I have your prize in my desk."

Patty was reluctant to accept the prize, whatever it was, in a dusty box, from the back of a drawer in the teacher's desk. Some part of her twelve-year-old self knew if she hadn't herself been an outcast, she might have joined her peers, lemminglike, in their cruel mockery of the teacher now looking into her eyes.

Ashamed, she looked away, hoping the woman would not guess. "Open it," was all the teacher said. Inside were brushes, watercolor paints, and a cloth, airy and sheer and golden as a dragonfly's wing.

The girl looked a question. Smiling words answered her. "Child, your talent is a form of magic. Transform this cloth and it will transform you." And, despite the girl's youth, she knew.

She drew

upon the golden sheer.

Surprised to see the paint adhere.

Years later when the work was done,

a field of flowers of the sun,

the cloth transformed.

From that day on, her days in rhyme.

There never ever was a time

when from a camera she'd not flee.

The yet unborn would never see

her image in reality.

Just through the magic cloth of gold.

Her eyes, aflame just like her soul.

The lines of stark reality bent

through sole artistic temperament.

Time travels in a circle,

and the world is weird.

The door to Happily Ever After was nudged open not

by romantic noble knight who might

have been a Tennyson invention - instead,

by a middle school sage

of a certain age

whose face was plain

but whose soul was flame.

What followed were years in rhyme, kickstarted by Miss Loretta with the gifts of confidence, love of the arts and appreciation for their power… and empathy.

Patty – now calling herself Pat – went on to become class valedictorian of her high school. She wrote a children’s book about an earthworm who wants to fly. Her career as an artist resulted in honors for her maritime art, and her paintings are in collections all over the world.

Have you guessed? I am that kid, very much grown up now. I married a young man from my old neighborhood, moved back home, and still live in Niantic today. My favorite place, besides the beach? Libraries.

Thank you, Miss Loretta! I will never forget you.

About the creator

Pat Procko, who has also used the name Pat Kelbaugh, is an author and illustrator. As an author of adult literature, she has published novels in a series titled Dreamtime and a book of poetry. As an artist, she specializes in maritime art as well as figurative and abstract art. Her preferred mediums are watercolor, acrylic, and mixed media. The story of "The Lesson" is based on her own childhood experiences with bullying and the teacher, Miss Loretta, who helped her to realize the power of her own artistic gifts.

About the library

The East Lyme Public Library is a community hub in East Lyme, Connecticut. Our library offers a wide range of resources and services. The Children’s Department is a lively space serving babies through tweens. We also offer exciting free programs for all ages throughout the year. We are a member of the LION consortium, which gives patrons access to a vast shared collection. Our staff members are dedicated to providing excellent service to all. The library has been serving the community in various forms since 1888.

Let's Discuss!

What is bullying?
Where does bullying take place?
If you witnessed a classmate being bullied, what would you do?
What can you do to stop bullying?
In what ways is bullying harmful?

There's always more to do!

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