“I’m sick of this Jeannie business, and if I hear of it one more time, you’re in big trouble!!!”

This tongue lashing came Mrs. Mulkey, my second-grade-teacher-from-hell.

Now, let it be known, I love teachers.

Teachers are my heroes.

Throughout all of my schooling, I only had two bad ones. That’s a 98% success rate for all my teachers throughout all time, so that’s pretty darn amazing. I’ve blogged and spoken about a lot of the 98%, singing their praises, and today I’m going to share about one of the two from hell. Because now I’m an adult with a voice and I can.

When I was growing up we didn’t have a whole lot of money. We weren’t dirt poor but we weren’t rich either. I would bring home Scholastic Books order forms from school all the time and beg to buy a book and usually my parents would say we didn’t have the money to order. Occasionally they would say yes and I would feel like the greatest thing ever just happened. One time I actually got to order two books. I never forgot that. Best. Day. Ever. (This is why, when my great-niece Livvy brings me the book order forms from her school, I say yes EVERY SINGLE TIME. She doesn’t even bother taking it to her Mom or her “Unc” as she calls him. She just brings it to me because she knows I’m going to say yes — guaranteed.)

Most days you could find me in the hallway of our house where the bookshelf was. We had a short bookshelf there with Encyclopedia Britannica as well as the entire works of Shakespeare. I  would select one of those books and lay in front of the bookshelf reading for many hours. Over time I read through every one of those books, just for pleasure. (I know, you’re probably thinking, “You have strange ways of being happy, Deanna.)

My parents took me to the library on a regular basis which is probably another reason they said no to the Scholastic book orders most of the time, but I rapidly reached my book limit at the library. Despite checking out twenty or more books at a time, I would finish with all of them in just a few days, with nothing left to read. At that point, it was back to the encyclopedias or Shakespeare until we could go back to the library. My grandmother who lived across the street had a tall bookcase in her hallway of her home. I would go over to her place and lay in the hallway reading, devouring every book on her shelf as well.

My parents learned that being sent to my room was not a punishment. I craved the solitude of my room, and would lay in the silence for hours reading books I had already read, over and over again. They stopped sending me to my room for a punishment and just spanked me instead or took my music away.

I was allowed to watch one TV show a week when I was a preschooler and we still lived in Virginia. I always chose The Carol Burnett Show or I Love Lucy. I could never watch both, only one. Then when we moved to Maryland, I was allowed to watch a little bit more television. One of the shows I quickly became enamored with was, I Dream of Jeannie.

From first grade on I was placed in accelerated reading and writing. It was all I wanted to do aside from writing music or riding my bike. I couldn’t multiply or divide to save my life (still don’t do a good job at it) and many nights I could be found sobbing at the dining room table over simple mathematical problems. Tutoring was provided, but it never got much better, even in high school and college.  I am still at a basic math level. I know enough to be able to figure out what a tip should be at a restaurant, or what percentage I’m getting off of a new dress at Belk’s. That’s all I need to survive, right? Later on as an adult, I would find out from a neurology test that I had a learning disorder when it came to math. That would have been super helpful to know early on, but things were different back then in this regard and they didn’t know what they didn’t know.

So back to Mrs. Mulkey…

When I was in second grade, I watched I Dream of Jeannie, after school each day. By that year, the show was in syndication and they were showing reruns. Each day when the show was over, I would re-write the script.

I was convinced I could do it better.

Major Healey’s character could make a different choice in this situation…
Major Nelson needed a more compassionate voice in this scene…
Jeannie could be more assertive with all of them, and the the outcome would be different.

Every day I would do these re-writes.
Then I would come to school with the scripts.

I’d talk to other kids in my class and say, “Let me show you what I’m working on. This is soooo amazing…”  (Yeah, even back then in second grade I was saying everything was amazzzzingggg. The only difference was, instead of being the incredibly cool person I am now saying all this, imagine me as an awkward little Pentecostal girl wearing culottes and two pony tails on either side of my head.)  Here’s proof…

Some of my classmates would listen.
Others would look at me like I was a martian.

I didn’t care.
I just loved writing.
The thought of writing these scripts and sharing with others was a passion.

Excitedly, I’d say to my classmates, “Just imagine if the show went in this direction how amazing it would be! I believe this could change everything for the better!!!”

One day Mrs. Mulkey said if I kept this up she would send me to the guidance counselor.

I wish she would have! Guidance counselors are THE BEST!

Better yet I used to pray she would just send me to Mr. Harris, which she did sometimes. Mr. Harris was our librarian. Why couldn’t I just stay all day with Mr. Harris?

Isn’t it funny that kid can be placed in accelerated reading and writing and then basically be punished for actually…DOING IT? If I was a teacher and had a student like me, I would take a serious look at the scripts, make suggestions and give encouragement. I would want to be that kid’s hero when they grew up, not a bad memory. But I digress…

As a certified career coach, I would often ask people what they loved to do when they were eight years old. They think back and name things they enjoyed doing then, and not surprisingly it’s not far from what they crave doing now. And I always ask, “Why can’t you? What’s stopping you?”

There are four things I still do today: reading, writing, music and riding my bike. And three of those four things, I actually get paid to do now. (But WHATEVER, Mrs. Mulkey! She had no idea I was training for my career back then.)

So Mrs. Mulkey went berserk during recess. All the kids were on the playground at Chesapeake Terrace Elementary School in Baltimore, Maryland, swinging on the monkey bars and stuff. But not me. I was out there amongst them, waving my script around. “My latest Jeannie script is ready!” I declared with delight. “You’re going to loooooove the new ending from last night’s show!”

“Deanna Doss!” I heard her shrill voice call out. I can still envision her short and stout figure, waddling over to where we were. I don’t even think she heard me, she just saw me waving my papers and gathering kids around me.  Surprisingly, I could always get people to listen. I was an influencer and gatherer of people even back then.

She broke up the crowd.

“Over here! Now!” she motioned sternly.

With one fell swoop she grabbed the script out of my hand and said,“No more! I’m sick of this Jeannie business. Nobody cares! Nobody wants to read your scripts! (Really, Mrs. Mulkey? Then why are they all gathered around me? Never mind, dear lady…I don’t want to confuse you with the facts.)

She went on: “If I see this one more time we’re having a parent conference and you’re going to stay in the principal’s office until you stop talking about this. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” I said, hanging my head.

I wasn’t afraid of the Principal.

I was devastated that she confiscated my script.
It was brilliant.  Prolific, I tell you.
Now I would have to rewrite the darn thing.
All that work, down the drain.

I didn’t stopped re-writing Jeannie scripts.
I kept writing them all year.
I just got quiet about them.
I wrote them for me.

Re-writing television scripts isn’t my priority today.
But writing things I feel passionate about is still my focus.

People like Mrs. Mulkey still come around in all our lives. Even as adults.

They say, “Nobody cares. I don’t know why you’re sharing that online.”

Or, “I don’t agree with you, can you please stop talking about this, at least so openly?”

Or, “If you don’t stop sharing about this I’ll ____________________!”

Yes, it’s happened to me as an adult.

Maybe it’s happened to you, too.
And you know what? We don’t have to listen.

Martin Luther once said, “If you want to change the world, pick up your pen.”

My friend, here’s what I want you to know today, because the Mrs. Mulkeys of the world are lurking out there, trying to stop you, and I for one do not want you to stop. So…here goes with 3 things I want you to know today…

Nobody can do it like you. 

You are your own unique brand. I’m not saying there aren’t other great people out there. What I am saying is that NOBODY DOES IT LIKE YOU, because you are you and God made you like no one else. When He made you, he broke the mold!

The world needed that nerdy little girl with two ponytails on either side of her head, who was influencing her classmates.

We need your voice, friend.

We need the way you say it.

Even if a million other people are saying it, we need it the way you say it. So keep saying it, and don’t look sideways to get your cues as to how to say it.

We want it in your vernacular.

We want it with your accent.

We want it with your pet vocabulary words.

We want YOU.

Don’t throw away your influence.

There are people who desperately need you.

They are waiting for your wisdom, your guidance, your encouragement.

The Mrs. Mulkeys of the world are going to see people gather round and say stupid stuff like:

“You don’t have a degree and I do. I should be the one talking about this.” (No one has the corner on talking, not even the people with degrees.)

“You don’t have the level of experience that I do. (Okay, how do you think you get experience? By DOING.)

“You don’t have the right background…” (God sends forth people of all backgrounds. You will reach people I can’t reach and I will reach people you might not be able to reach. We are all needed.)

We are all called to be influencers. The Apostle Paul was an influencer. He said, “Follow me as I follow Christ…” (I Corinthians 11:1)

Don’t let anyone talk you out of being an influencer, inviting people to follow you as you follow Christ.

OWN IT.

Unleash your passion.

I want to hear about what lights YOU up.

So many people don’t even know what lights them up, because they are too busy looking over at their neighbor and what he or she is doing. It’s another blog post for another day, but so many people don’t even know who they are due to a competitive  or a copycat nature. They are so busy copying and competing, they don’t even know their niche.

I don’t want to hear about your friend’s passion, I want to hear about your passion.

My passion in second grade was Jeannie scripts. It’s not anymore, but back then it was. Today that isn’t my passion. I have other issues stirring on my heart to write about and nobody is going to talk me out of writing on those things. I’m also not glancing over to see about what other people are writing about before I start tapping away on my computer. I want to share what’s on my heart.

I want to hear what’s stirring with you, friend.

Stop looking to the left or right and listen to God.

Someone once said it best (I don’t know who to attribute this to) but they said, “Be a voice, not an echo!”

I don’t want a regurgitation of someone else’s passion.

I want to hear and read what God has given YOU.

Don’t look to someone else’s successful track record to lead you as to what to share…and don’t pander to the crowd. Pull up that message that is stirring down inside you, and get it out there to the world.

We want you.

We need you.

We are waiting.