Withchypoos and Wardens: Observations of a Scared Child.

"Fear is a mile wide and an inch deep"

Edgar Nye

 I grew up on the North side of Manning as the youngest of 4 girls. Our home, like many others in the 70's was dysfunctional, with lots of arguing, threats, repressed emotions and silent treatment mixed in with a few good times. Most of the human interactions that I observed I believed were normal. That limiting belief shaped how I perceived the world and in turn limited my potential in many ways.

Let me introduce you to perhaps one of the most influential people in my life. If you grew up in Manning then you probably would disagree with what I am about to say. For many residents, this person was seen as a drunk nuisance worth avoiding. I can tell you with great confidence that he played another role in my childhood. Larry Nooskey lived next door to us and spent much of his time pushing my mom's buttons. He was known for his zest for dancing and having a few too many beers. He also practiced singing at the top of his lungs his version of Rod Stewart's Maggie May on his homemade karaoke machine. Larry would often tease in good humor and call women by the name "Witchypoo". I can still hear his laugh from my hiding spot behind the garden shed where I would listen to his crazy. He was a character that didn't exist in my home and there was something about him that drove my mother to rage. Many times I would observe my mother spray Larry with the garden hose in an attempt to shut down his party. She would swear at him and call him all sorts of names that I never really understood until later in life. I would watch while Larry would pick himself up and tell her that she was the "fattest Witchypoo" that he ever saw. The cold water never stopped Larry and in turn he would get louder and more tenacious with his taunts.

Watching that scene play out everyday taught me how to have empathy for those who were being treated unfairly. It programmed me to have a soft spot for those who survived in spite of what life sprayed them with. That trait stayed with me and made my job teaching at risk students that much richer. Perhaps the worst thing that Larry taught me was to pursue those who were controlling, like my mother, and rock their boat until somebody fell out. One of my fondest memories includes a feeling of deep satisfaction as I watched my mother storm to the house in tears and slam the door after she had lost her attempt to silence Larry. I would raise my arm and give a silent cheer for Larry for standing his ground and winning his battle to remain unapologetically himself. Larry became my hero because standing up to my mother was not something that I was ever allowed to do. Up until then I had lived a life of being barely seen and never heard. At one point my mother's controlling was so intense that we secretly referred to her as the Warden.

Unfortunately that played out in my career as something that I was unaware that I was even doing. Throughout my teaching history my story is riddled with controlling female principals that spent a lot of energy trying to put me in my place. The more they tried to quiet my spirit the more I would push buttons and spread anarchy in the ranks. Looking back over those events I can't say that I was proud of my actions but I was behaving the way that I thought was quite normal. There was no way in hell they were going to change my true self. It wasn't until I started to heal that I realized that strong, controlling women who attempt to silence others was a major trigger for me.  I often wonder what my mom could have learned from Larry if she had stopped long enough to listen to her trigger. What was it about Larry shining in his purest form that made her so angry?

Where did that trigger come from? Before you finish reading this post know this; there is always a trauma wound behind a trigger. It is our responsibility once we are aware that something is triggering us to find out why. I remember when I first heard this idea and it scared the shit out of me. I was terrified of reliving my trauma and so I would ignore the trigger and swallow my reaction down. I have since learned to acknowledge my triggers when they are happening. I no longer live in fear of my triggers in fact I welcome them in like an old friend and offer them tea. I want them to linger and tell me all the secrets that my brain hid to keep me safe. I make space for my triggers and I stop my busy life to listen carefully so I can do the work to heal the wounds as they are revealed to me. That for me was the turning point in my healing journey. It is the reason why I choose to hold space for people to do the same work...it is the work that is needed in this seemingly broken world.

Larry has been gone for a few years now but will remain a legend in my hometown. You can ask anyone in Manning about Larry Nooskey and they will have a funny Witchypoo story to share. If anything it is Larry's resilience that we should cling to as we hold space for our own triggers. Unlike the Warden, this little Witchypoo is going to listen to her triggers with the same tenacity that Larry would bring to a one man karaoke show for an angry audience. Forever will my triggers sing to me, "WAKE UP Maggie, I think I have SOMETHING to SAY to youuuuu..."♪ 

Anastasia Jorquera-Boschman is a retired teacher, principal and educational consultant who spends her current life speaking, writing and holding space for people to heal their trauma. She can be found humming Rod Stewart tunes while entertaining her triggers over a cup of tea.