Outsider

I've often felt like an outsider, but I know now that it all turned out for the best. I was an only child - so straightaway that made me 'different' from other children on the street and at school. We'd moved from London so I expect I spoke differently, (though truth be told I was never aware of any mickey taking, ever, over my Cockney accent in Aberdeen). My parents encouraged my hobbies, and money was found to send me ice skating and to have tuition, something that no other child in the street nor at school did. At skating of course I fitted in. We took family holidays camping and walking using a small vehicle; (nobody else in the street had a car!). Every Sunday my mother and myself went walking with a club. (My dad worked night shift for 16 years so couldn't come every Sunday). At the club I was encouraged in my interest by adult members, and again I fitted in. Neighbours thought we were bonkers!!

So it was that I was accustomed to adult company, often finding it difficult to communicate with my own age group.

Attending college I was able to live at home, but I had to conform to my parent's views: No going out weeknights, and only on a Friday and Saturday evening....returning by 11pm. Having to study in my room, or use the local library. Only occasionally socialising with college friends on a weekend and even this was usually done at my home, with an invite from my parents.

All these things kind of made me isolated. Yet I feel that because of this independence I rather revel in my own company. I am content to be alone. I can always find something to amuse myself or to do.

Yet I was popular (I think). I was head prefect and Dux...always chosen to represent the school or choir. Enjoying music, ballet, cinema. At college I was the class representative, fighting for our rights, attending meetings with staff, having charge of the library.

My first teaching appointment was in Kingussie (in the Highlands) which suited me to a T. I was actively involved in extra curricular activities of all sorts.

Moving south I didn't readily adjust to life with neighbours as I'd lived in an isolated cottage near the river Spey. Having a child changed that as I became involved in village life...then school life. Later I got a job in a school in Abingdon where I worked happily for 13 years.

So latterly I didn't feel so much an 'outsider '. Though I must admit that I'm not a kissy, huggy type of person. I feel reserved and it takes a while to get to know me.

Personally, now, though I really don't care if I am an outsider. I feel quite content to be on the outside.

Photo taken in Switzerland... I walk alone...

This week's piece was written in 1968.

                                  To You

            Shall  I  give  my  hand  to  you ?
            Perhaps  you  will  take  offence  and  shun   me.
            I  don't  know.
            I  wish  I  could  make  you  understand -
            My  intentions  are  good , I  am  sure  of  that :
            If  you  were  to  give  your  hand  to  me
            I  would  accept  it  without  a  second  thought.
            I  cannot  change ,  accept  me  for  what  I  am
            And  I  shall  give  you  my  hand.

                       

Thanks for reading, Kath