My 2016 Entry (part 1) : Distant Ships Reaching a Horizon: My First Seven Years of School.

                     Distant Ships Reaching a Horizon: My First Seven Years of School.
                                                                   by
                                                      Mark William Darus.

                                      NOTE: THIS DRAFT HAS NO EDITING. I'M CATCHING GLIMPSES AND WRITING THEM AS THEY OCCUR.... SORRY.......

                                   I was, in Late 1960's thru early 1970's,  in 'Special Classes'.  Grades 1 thru  6th grade. I did a second stint in the 6th grade because I was profoundly lucky to have a teacher named William Stuchal that tried halfway thru my 6th grade to integrate me with the mainstream classroom system. Being honest, looking back to such twisted memory, I could see how he thought this and learned to love this man. Between My Mother, Marion and him, they petitioned the Cleveland Public School to HOLD me back a year.

                 

                      Yeah, in modern day words when thinking of 'Special Class' I was supposedly some slack-jawed, drooling idiot that either bit people on their ankles or kicked, gauged or clawed at others.  Yet, according to my sisters or my own memory I was not like that at all. During that first seven years of my educational life, the only thing I truly remember was a teacher in kindergarten by the name Ms. Steele that liked to watch us boys piss into urinals.  (Yeah, that'd be a monumental lawsuit these days, but not in the 1960's. And, no, I'm not looking for a movie of the week Lifetime Channel extravaganza, but looking back it could be one.

           IMAGINE A NARRATIVE:  How her glaring eyes locked on our parts, yellow flowing , our stance. >do you feel a little sick at this?<  Woman would state as video shows this: "She intently watched each and every, perhaps, overloaded boy pass his liquid by-product to urinal. Inhaling deeply, maybe with a hand in her pant-legs, gasping a sigh....." and so much more bullshit could I share gazing back, though it was true then.

                       Well, boys of the late 1960's/early 70's didn't. If we had to go, we just let it out. We just let it flow and occasionally wondered why some woman was watching us piss more intently than our fathers who attempted to teach us to learn proper aim and ability whilst remembering to place the seat down afterward. We, then as boys, often laughed about it. Joked about it as boys of that ERA LONG AGO past would share National Geographic Magazines with one another showing topless Aborigine women dancing about as freely as Current teens would share a Cougar/MILF Anal Freedom website would do these days.

              >>>>> And I am sorry, my work/life and Church family: But, yeah, the only thing that has changed with Pornography is the delivery method. Much quicker these days...  <<<<<
                   

                        Note: This will be convoluted and sketchy at best with my recall.

          AUTHORS NOTE: 08232017 finding this as a draft. I'm not embarrassed so lets toss it out there. I seriously cannot believe i was the only perverted this way in a day when parents didn't sue school systems. Not sure what this means for others decades away from day. Consider those like me that didn't become rapists OR rich with parents backwhen  with a lawyer in pocket.
              We just grew and did with what we had.
               A few of liked to make bombs, which was fine back that many decades ago. No one got hurt though craters were created and a few windows were wasted during the concussion ring splayed out.  I was about 12-14 at that time.