Heavyweight - Heavyweight Check In 7

Episode Date: June 4, 2020

During these times of uncertainty and sadness, we bring you two stories of two women seeking the comfort of childhood. Amber and Eva are in search of their first grade teachers. Mix by Bobby Lord. Music by Christine Fellows, John K Samson , Bobby Lord, and Blue Dot Sessions. Further Reading: https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2020/06/becoming-a-parent-in-the-age-of-black-lives-matter/612448/ https://www.esquire.com/news-politics/a23960/james-baldwin-cool-it/ https://www.mpd150.com/report/overview/ https://www.newyorker.com/news/dispatch/george-floyd-houstons-protests-and-the-privilege-of-the-benefit-of-the-doubt https://newrepublic.com/article/157949/fascism-america-trump-anti-police-george-floyd-protests https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2014/06/the-case-for-reparations/361631/ And you can find Amber’s memoir about leaving the Jehovah’s Witnesses here: https://bookshop.org/books/leaving-the-witness-exiting-a-religion-and-finding-a-life/9780735222540 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

DQ presents how to officially start your summer. Step one, head to DQ. Step two, try the new summer blizzard menu. And step three, dig into new peanut butter cookie dough party, new picnic peach cobbler, and more. Make it official only at DQ. Happy tastes good. FanDuel Casino's exclusive live dealer studio has your chance at the number one feeling, winning, which beats even the 27th best feeling, saying I do. who wants this last parachute i do enjoy the number one feeling winning in an exciting live dealer studio exclusively on fan duel casino where winning is undefeated 19 plus and physically located in ontario gambling problem call 1-866-531-2600 or visit connectsontario.ca. Please to kraken.com and see what crypto can be.

Not investment advice. Crypto trading involves risk of loss. See kraken.com slash legal slash ca dash pru dash disclaimer for info on Kraken's undertaking to register in Canada. Hey, everybody. It's Jonathan speaking, sitting in my closet. I was sitting in this closet last night for a couple of hours trying to figure out what to say and then just scrapping everything because I don't know what to say. And usually, you know, the way that we've been doing these check-ins, Stevie, Kalila, and I, we've been trying to talk from our own experience because that's all we could do. going to talk from our own experience because that's all we could do. But right now, it just doesn't feel like what needs to be heard. I can't speak to the experience or the pain that the Black community is going through right now. But what I do feel like I could say is that the murder of George Floyd is an outrage. That the system that props

up this kind of behavior, these sorts of actions, is sick. And I don't know what's going to come next, but I know that what came before cannot stand. I live in the Longfellow neighborhood of Minneapolis, and I went out walking on the weekend, and the neighborhood was still smoldering. I feel like everything that's happening right now is necessary, and I don't even know in what way, but I have faith in that. Before all of this started, before the events of this past week we'd planned an episode about teachers we were thinking a lot about teachers during the quarantine about students missing their teachers teachers missing their students and we have today two stories from two different

women coincidentally both looking for their first grade teachers. And I don't know what they have to say about this moment, if anything. But if you'd like, you could listen to them. And I hope they bring you some feeling of community, of comfort, or just maybe a respite. And if you want to read some of the things that we've been reading right now, And if you want to read some of the things that we've been reading right now, we're going to also include some links in our show notes to some thoughtful pieces that have spoken to us and might be worth reading right now. So here's our show. Hello?

Stevie? Hey. Hey. Let me get Kalila on the line. Hello? Kalila? Yeah, hi. Hey. Let me get Kalila on the line. Hello? Kalila? Yeah, hi. Hey. Hey. Hi.

This week, we have two stories about two women who are both searching for their first grade teachers. So the first story is from my friend Amber, who from day one was set apart from the other kids that she went to school with. So I was raised a Jehovah's Witness. I'm a third-generation Jehovah's Witness. And the religion's kind of changed over the years. But there's one common theme, and that is that the world is ending any minute. the world is ending any minute. And in order to secure your own salvation, you have to preach and try to convert others and tell them, hey, you better convert to be a Jehovah's Witness before it's too late because you're going to die. And what happens if you convert and you don't die?

Yeah. And then what happens after Armageddon is that paradise will come to earth. We'll all be walking around in like sacks, burlap sacks, and we'll be cuddling pandas, and the tigers won't eat us, and everyone's happy. But, you know, eternal life requires sacrifices. So while her classmates were attending birthday parties and watching cartoons and being kids, Amber was preaching door to door.

And as a kid, sometimes you knocked on the door of someone you went to school with, and that was just the peak mortification. There were times where we fake knocked because we knew the kid lived there. I didn't live in a very big area. What does it mean to fake knock? Some people called it the Bible knock. So you hold the Bible up to the door and then you knock on the Bible. The thing is, it's a very complicated thing because as a Jehovah's

Witness, I really believed in it. And so I knew that this was how we had to be. You just accept that you were different. But in spite of being different, Amber really loved school, which brings us to Mrs. Mosen. My first grade teacher, her name was Mrs. Mosen. I just think she was one of those people that's a very good teacher. I was really shy as a kid, and I think in a lot of classes I was in, teachers overlooked me, and I was not the type of kid that would, you know, be really eager and put up my hand and such. And she seemed to believe in

me. That was important. I mean, that kind of stayed with me. I don't know, maybe she was kind of like a mother figure. I don't know, because my relationship with my own mom was not very close. And she had a son around my age. And she always used to say that she wanted her son to marry me when we grew up. Amber did grow up. She graduated high school. And one day, soon after graduating, Amber and her mom were in the neighborhood of her old elementary school. So they decided to stop by to see Mrs. Mosen. She was still in the same classroom and still teaching. And she was so thrilled to see me. And then she asked me, what college are you going to go to now that you've graduated

high school? And I told her, oh, well, I'm not going to college, actually. You know, Jehovah's Witnesses, we believe that we need to share the good news of what we know. So I'm going to be a full-time preacher. You know, I'm going to be, it's like a missionary of sorts. I'm going to be a full-time preacher. You know, I'm going to be, it's like a missionary of sorts. And I remember that her face just, she looked stunned. Because she thought she expected more. Yeah.

Yeah. And then sadness, like, and it just, the look crossed her face just for a second. Maybe she just had something in her eye. I don't know. But I took, when I saw that look, I was like, oh, it kind of struck me that she was really, really sad. I think that there's these moments through my life where I, there would be a second of lucidity about my religion. And I feel like that was one of those moments.

There was a moment where I glimpsed the other side and the reality of who I was and the conflict with, you know, who I had to be met for a second. But then I turned away from it. You know, at the time, I'm like, she just doesn't understand that the world is ending. And then, yeah, I left and I didn't ever see her again.

So for the next 15 years, Amber preached. But that moment of lucidity in the classroom with Mrs. Mosin led to more moments of lucidity. These little cracks in the things Amber had always believed to be true. And then it all came to a head in China. She'd moved there to preach, even learning Mandarin. When you're speaking another language, you can hear yourself in a different way.

Yeah. And even as I started to teach the things that I believed to them, I would think, this is weird. Like, this sounds weird. This even sounds a little crazy. So although Amber had gone to China to convert people, slowly she became the one to change her mind. And for a long time, she just kept these doubts

to herself. Because I didn't want to give up eternal life. And I really like my friends, especially. So for a long time, I hid it. But I'm not very good at hiding things. That's one problem I have with my personality. So it was more uncomfortable for me to try to keep going in it when I didn't believe in it anymore, and I'd have to pretend that I did. Because being a Jehovah's Witness, you cannot be like a Sunday Christian. It involves your entire life. And so eventually, Amber admitted that she no longer believed. And in a nutshell, what ended up happening was that the church elders were called in,

and Amber was labeled an apostate and was stranded in China without money, without friends or family. Everyone that I knew just dropped me, like everyone in my life. So like my grandmother was someone I was very close to, drop me, like everyone in my life. So like my grandmother was someone I was very close to, and I wrote her a letter explaining, and she didn't write me back. Because people are terrified. People are taught that an apostate like me, someone who doubts the faith, is mentally diseased, is like a dog that's returned to its vomit. Like they use all this very like awful description. And so people, they think that it's about their loyalty to God. And so they just drop you. It doesn't matter who you are, but if you're your daughter, your son, your mother, your father,

you just shun immediately. I moved to New York City. I was trying to figure out what to do with my life. I didn't have an education past high school. I didn't have much job experience. I didn't know anyone here. I didn't have any friends. But I did start to go to college. It's one of the first things I did. Amber started going to night school and working towards a college degree. And as soon as she was back in school...

Mrs. Molson popped back into my head. And I thought, oh, you know, I think she had such high hopes for me. I bet she would be happy to know that I made it out. Maybe there's some way I could be like, I saw that look in your eye all those years ago and just tell her that maybe I'm fulfilling the potential in some way that you saw in me. Now the question is, how do we get in touch with Mrs. Mosen? Amber couldn't even remember her first name. You know, it's funny.

It's like on the tip of my tongue, she had a very unusual first name, but I can't. I've Googled and I've tried and I can't. The sad thing is I could ask my mom, but my mom doesn't talk to me. My mom would remember. So I'm not sure what to do without a full name. I tried looking up Mosin in the phone book.

Amazingly, in the area where Amber grew up, under Mosin, there's just, there's only one listing. Should we try calling it? Let's try. We can try. Is this exciting? I feel nervous. I feel nervous. Hello?

Oh, hello. Is this Mrs. Mosen? It is. Oh, hi. I just want to make sure I have the right Mrs. Mosen. Did you teach at Bellmead School? Yes, I did. So Amber explains who she is. So I'm one of your former students. I'm Amber Skora. And she explains why she's calling,

that moment she still thinks about all these years later. Just this moment, there was a slight, like a subtle shift in your face. And for this very lucid moment, I sensed that you were sad, like that you felt that that was like, it was like a shame. So long story short, I ended up moving to New York because when you leave the Jehovah's Witnesses,

they all shun you. So like no one in my family speaks to me anymore because of that. Yeah. Not even your mom? No, she doesn't either, actually. But the point of this whole story is that I thought back to you and I felt like now I would like to tell you that I escaped and that that moment when you looked at me that way,

actually it did touch something in me. And it's something that came back to me now that I, you know, had left. It sort of stayed with you, did it? Yeah. And I also just want to say, like, as a teacher, I think you were probably like the teacher I remember most from my whole childhood. Oh, thank you. Yeah, I felt like you really saw me. And I just wanted to tell you that, like, I'm going to college now. I take night school. So what are you studying? I'm actually getting a degree in psychology because when I finish,

I wanted to become, like, a therapist that helps people, sort of a similar situation that I was in, to escape cults or, like, mind control and help them to deprogram. Can I tell you how proud I am of you? Oh, that's so nice. You were, you were so bright. And when, when you said that you weren't going to university, I mean, I just, I was shocked. I couldn't understand it. You know, I thought, my God, why doesn't that girl go to university? But I couldn't say too much with your mother being there. Oh, that's funny. Yeah, I could see it in your face.

Because you just stood out as far as academics was concerned. But I'm surprised it showed on my face. That's funny. Yeah, I don't know. I picked it up. But it's really nice to hear you say that now. I mean... I'm just so glad that you're doing it now.

Don't ever let anybody deter you from whatever you want to become. You become. I'm so glad for you, really. You're making an old woman very happy. Oh, I'm so glad I reached you. Just absolutely amazing. It just made my day. Amber has just been accepted into Harvard.

And she'll be beginning virtual classes in the fall. We'll see you next time. shoot. I do. Enjoy the number one feeling, winning, in an exciting live dealer studio, exclusively on FanDuel Casino, where winning is undefeated. 19 plus and physically located in Ontario. Gambling problem? Call 1-866-531-2600 or visit connectsontario.ca. Please play responsibly. Stevie? Yes? Kalila? Yep. You know, this is probably before your day, but in 1979, Pink Floyd sang, Hey, teacher, leave those kids alone.

But here it is 2020, and we don't want those kids left alone. Not at all. Sounds like you're on all things considered. I feel like that's a very NPR host intro. I'm Jonathan Goldstein. So this next story is about Ava, who also can't stop thinking about her first grade teacher, a woman named Miss Susie, who taught her 30 years ago in a small Connecticut town called Jewett City.

We lived in a house that didn't have heat or hot water. We didn't have a car. We didn't have a phone. We didn't have a TV. I went to this Catholic school when I was young, and I distinctly remember this woman named Miss Susie. She was the person that first told me about New York City. And I live in New York City because

she was very influential to me. I felt like she was radical. Maybe she wasn't. Maybe she just felt radical to me because she was kind and she felt different than the rest of the teachers. She never spoke to us like we were children. She just spoke to us like we were smaller people. Her making us listen to John Lennon's Imagine and giving us little candles so that we could sway back and forth like we were at our own concert. To think about some of the lyrics to Imagine, about how imagine there's no heaven.

Yeah, imagine there's no religion. I mean... That does seem kind of like in the context of a Catholic school with nuns walking around, that is kind of radical. During this time period, my mom has been in recovery for 27 years now, but she didn't quit drinking until I was eight years old. So I spent a majority of my time caring for my mom. There were times because I was really worried about her that I would actually sneak out of school and I would try to go home and make sure she was okay because she had, she fell down the stairs one time and she would get hurt because she would be drunk. And when I got to school, my first grade teacher,

she would make me be able to forget about those things a little bit until really I got off the bus to get back home. And so I think that's why I was really drawn to this teacher because she made me feel safe and she made me feel like things were going to be okay. And that's kind of why I'm thinking about her right now, because there's this sense of safety that we're all looking for. So Ava only had Miss Susie that one year for first grade, and then Miss Susie left the school.

But then she actually came back seven years later to attend Ava's eighth grade graduation. And she was standing off to the right. And we hadn't seen her since she left. Wow. And I remember looking at her and I saw her and she said, she mouthed, I'm so proud of you. And for somebody that went through a lot at that time, it was really wonderful. I keep a series of photographs in my vanity area and I still have the class photograph of everybody. It's next to a picture of my grandmother and it says Miss Susie, 1990.

says Miss Susie, 1990. Like, I look at it every day. Huh. I just look elated. I look so happy in that photo. I wonder if she still thinks about us, and I wonder if she's still teaching. I would really like to talk to her again and thank her for, you know,

inspiring me to, letting me tell her that I'm really grateful for the strength to go someplace else besides Jewett City. So the only problem really was finding Miss Susie, this woman that Ava hadn't seen in decades. And added to that was, you know, the ever constant problem of someone in search of their first grade teacher, which was that Ava was not 100% sure of Ms. Susie's first name. And it was at this point, Kalila, that I turned to you. Yes.

To help in this search. It was very hard. Dozens of Ms. Susies across Connecticut were phoned. And then finally called the right person. She still is a teacher. She's in upstate New York now. So I connected Ava with Miss Suci. And, you know, at the beginning, it was a little awkward, as these things can be.

But Miss Suci was just very kind, just as she was all those years ago. I don't know that you know, but the year that I taught you, that was my very, very first year teaching ever. I was 22, so our first day of school together wasn't just your first day of first grade. It was my first day of first grade entirely. I was just out of college, and I was younger than you are now. I didn't know that. I mean, it seemed you were unlike any of the rest of the teachers that I remember from that area. But the other part was, so I don't, obviously I don't think that you would know this, but my mom got sober when I was eight. So when I was six,

I was in your class and she was still drinking. I did know that. I was told that by adults in the building, but I don't think that I realized how much you knew. So after your class, sorry. No, no, it's okay. The year that I had with you was really, it was really wonderful because I was so engaged and I wasn't really worried about my mom. I didn't know if you knew. Of course, my mom would show up sometimes to pick me up, and I know she would be drunk, and she would be drunk driving. From that time on, I worried about her.

I worried about her a lot. But I do remember first grade, that class to me was very freeing because I wasn't really worried that much it was important for me to to let you know that I thought of that time period as like the last time that I really like I didn't worry I was allowed to be a kid I thank you so much for sharing that with me um you know I I say that I knew but it was it was kind of a just in passing it wasn't a um I feel all the more blessed to have been a part of that and to have made it a place you know where you didn't have to worry where you got to be a child because that's what you were you You, you know, you were just a sweet little girl.

The one thing I remember about your mom, because I do have a vague picture of her in my head, was that she let me know that you were a very good reader and that you had taught yourself how to read. And it was like her way of letting me know to make sure that I challenged you or to, you know, maybe she was afraid you would be shy or quiet and not, you know, not have your true colors come out. But that is really the one thing I remember her saying to me. And I, I held onto that. I still actually have a pair of earrings that you made at one point you were like making jewelry and you were, we would do those like church basement yard sale things. And they don't have hooks on them anymore, but I've always kept them. Absolutely.

I have no words for that, that you still have them. That really, oh my gosh. You're making me speechless. That year was so special to me. The very last day of school, we all walked out the one main door, and the bus came and picked everybody up. All the kids spilled out the windows and are waving goodbye. And I ran back into the school, and I shut myself in a stall, and I cried and cried and cried. And the third grade teacher at the time came looking for me and she said, what's wrong? What's the matter? And I remember saying to her, I said, they left, they left and it will never be this year again. I'll never have this again. will never be this year again. I'll never have this again. I just knew that it would never be so pure. And I'm just glad that we connected, that you were in my class, that I did get that job, that there wasn't some other version of first grade for you or some other version of a career for me.

It's sometimes overwhelming when you think that you're the only person that's thought of the other. I just assumed that I was carrying all this stuff with me for this many years without being considered, but being remembered that age also feels really nice. But being remembered that age also feels really nice. It's really satisfying in a way that nothing has ever felt before. To be able to talk with someone I knew when they were such a little girl. And I was such a young woman. I mean, we were both just newbies.

We were both fresh in a way. Do you remember Julie Lordy and Paul Wisniewski? I do, yes. I do absolutely remember those names. So do you know they're married now? No, I wouldn't. Because she used to chase them around the schoolyard. She had a really good crush on him in first grade, and we all knew it.

But he thought he was going to be a priest. Hello? John? Hi. Hi, how are you? I'm well. Worried and well, you know. How about yourself? Worried and well, I guess. Yeah yourself? Worried and well, I guess Yeah, that's a good way to put it Yeah

Can I ask you to play Sun in an empty room? Sure, I'd be glad to Yeah? When's the last time you played it? Hmm I think it would have been on that tour in the Midwest where we saw you. Oh, really? Yeah, I think it would have been in Fargo, actually.

It would have been the last time I played it. So I'll just put the phone down, and then we'll see how this works. we'll see how this works. Now that the furniture's returning to its goodwill home With dishes in last week's papers, rumors and elections Crosswords on unending war The black in our fingers smear their prints on every door pulled

shut Now that the last month's rent is scheming with the damaged deposit, take this moment to decide If we meant it, if we meant it if we tried or felt around for far too much

from things that accidentally touched the hands that we nearly hold with panties for the GST. The shoulders we lean our shoulders into on the subway, mutter an apology. The shins that we kick beneath the table, that reflexive cry. the table that reflexive cry

the faces we meet one awkward beat too long and terrified know the things we need to say when said already anyway my parallelograms of light On walls that we repainted white Sun in an empty room

Sun in an empty room Sun in an empty room Sun in an empty room Sun in an empty room Take eight minutes and divide By ninety million lonely miles And watch a shadow cross the floor. We don't live here anymore. Thank you.