“Double Trouble”, by Tana M.

One of my most treasured life blessings is the fact I was born a twin.

Starting in Kindergarten, our mom and dad insisted we be put in different classrooms. Having three children of my own I now see the sacrifice they made for us. How easy it would have been to have both daughters in the same class! One set of homework. We could study together for the same tests. There wouldn’t be two sets of complicated home projects, and all the other obligations that come with being a parent of school-age children. But they decided very early on they didn’t want teachers to compare one of their girls to the other. Our mom and dad had the foresight to allow us to forge our way separately, make our own friends and to give us the space to mold ourselves into a person of our own.

Each year in elementary school, we would play a trick on our teachers on April Fools Day. It started in 3rd or 4th grade when some kids dared us to switch classes. At the start of the day, my twin went to my class and I went to hers. We took each other’s seats and pretended to be each other for the day. I raised my hand to answer the teacher’s question, just so I could hear them call me by my sister’s name. At that time, we looked very much alike, but our schoolmates could usually tell us apart, so I could hear kids snickering around me. By the end of the day, we confessed our transgression and fortunately it was dismissed as a light-hearted joke.

We continued the tradition each year, and it went smoothly until fifth grade…

I was lucky enough to have Mrs. H, the nicest teacher in school but my twin had the meanest, Mrs M. That April Fool’s Day, we sat in each other’s assigned seats, answering questions and being a little too cocky for our own good. Finally, late in the day, Mrs. M announced we were taking a surprise “Mastery Test'' in Math — one of those important benchmark exams that would “determine your future.” I couldn’t take my twin’s test, could I? Should I?

I realized the jig was up. I sheepishly raised my hand, and told Mrs. M that I couldn’t take the test. Of course, she asked, “Why not?”, and the whole story spilled out. It ended with me saying quietly, “April Fools?!”. Kids exploded in laughter as Mrs. M’s eyes widened. Apparently, she was not happy and did not appreciate being made to look like a fool in front of the class! She grabbed me by the hand, and dragged me down the hall to my actual teacher Mrs. H’s classroom. She banged on the door, asked to speak to her colleague, and to bring “Tana” out into the hall with her. There we were, April and me, two kids who never ever got in trouble, being yelled at by the meanest teacher in our grade. Mrs M. was livid. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. H smile just a bit, and I swear she winked at me. It was nice to know she got the joke!

We somehow had the courage to continue this tradition through high school and were even joined by a couple other sets of twins, the Barnett and the Ottomano boys. On April 1st, we would pick a class or two to switch. We had learned our lesson, and mostly kept this secret to ourselves, so the teachers were never the wiser. That’s about as rebellious as The Mayo Twins got during school years. You could call it a little “Double Trouble.”

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“An Unexpected Calling”, by Herb D.

One of my fondest memories was attending Public School #18 in Troy, NY. My neighborhood was comprised of 10 streets of mostly Jewish and Catholic middle class blue collar workers and a sprinkling of professional and proprietors of family businesses. My dad and his brothers were meatpackers who worked 12 hour days, six days a week.

There were 23 school age children on my street alone, and we lived one mile from our elementary school. There was no bussing, so we had a neighborhood carpool. There were no school lunches, so we walked home at 11:30am, had lunch, played outside, and were driven back to school at 12:50pm for our 1:00pm afternoon classes. At 3:30pm, we walked back home together. Well, not directly home. Across the street from school stood Tik’s local convenience store. Almost every day, before walking home, we made our stop for penny candy, chips, and a drink. My favorites were: sugar daddies, pez, lemonheads, necco’s, dum-dums, jaw-breakers, and almond joys.

I was fortunate to have such a wonderful community, such a dedicated school staff, and my mother’s support and involvement. You see, I had two learning disabilities, stuttering and reading.

There were no formal support services in school in the 1960s. My mother, a very outspoken advocate for her children, explained to the principal that the reading program was not meeting my needs and that she expected the school to provide additional services. Since the school had no testing protocols for disabilities, the principal assigned a teacher to spend extra time with me. My mother also asked her friend, a reading specialist, to work with me. By the time I graduated from 8th grade, I was near my expected reading level.

But the stuttering was not so easy to address. I began to stutter in 4th grade. At first, it was barely noticeable to others, but not to me. Over the next few months, it became so obvious that I stopped talking in school. I was so afraid of being embarrassed by my peers. At home, I continued to stutter, and I would no longer answer the phone because I could not say the word ‘hello’.

Then, one day, I met another stutterer. He was the brother of another student. He explained that stuttering is a lifelong condition that could not be stopped but could be controlled. He said it's okay to stutter, and that everybody has a condition of some sort. Most are not noticeable. Some are physical, some are mental. Stuttering is a combination of both.

At the time, this made no sense but I felt better hearing him say that I could still be liked, have friends, and live a ‘normal life’ (whatever that is).

I stutter to this day, especially when I am nervous. But, I am a successful and loving father and was an educator for forty-eight years, the last eight for students with behavioral and mental health issues. Maybe stuttering helped me find my ‘calling’.

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“Freedom in retrospect”, by Daryl D.

Each phase of my school life felt like it had ups and downs. But one thing I’ve realized is that you rarely realize you’re in a “happy time” until it’s long over, and you reflect back.

In elementary school, there were joyful times playing with friends. But I suffered at mandatory swim lessons. I loved the pool, but it was frightfully cold at 8am in June. (To this day, I avoid cold water situations unless it’s of a drinking nature.) I also remember having no allowance, having set bedtimes, and mounting chores. And I recall being very upset that I was not allowed to stay up and watch the ending to a very B-rated movie titled “War of the Gargantuas".

Middle school years were much of the same ups and downs as elementary years. I made new friends, played sports, and muddled through schoolwork. I experienced my first kiss before I really desired to have a girlfriend (sorry DeeDee). (That quickly changed as a freshman.)

In high school, school work was more challenging, but I seemed to get Bs without living in the library. But social situations, especially those including girls, were more intense. Sports were fortunately my refuge, and quickly became my calling. Jumping from football to basketball to baseball became the norm. I was getting fitter and fitter. Perhaps not much more flexible, but speed, strength and determination propelled me to starting positions in all sports.

College was very cool. Not just because I was at Oswego NY on the lake, but it was the first time on my own. No bedtime regulations, and the freedom to completely make my own schedule. Mom wasn’t there to inspect my bed corners. Perhaps the only downside was exams, essays and lack of funds. I scrimped to save $5 for pizza on Friday evenings. That was the cost of a large pizza delivered back then. Let that be a lesson in inflation, kids!

The married without kids era was fun too. Managing a home and making vacation plans. Time was mostly spent at work, but we did have the weekends, evenings and holidays.

I feel like having kids should be the best times of my life, but being a parent is not easy. The responsibilities are hard to fathom. Keeping kids alive and happy is a lot to ask of anyone. Then once you're outnumbered, it becomes a whole new ball game. The upside is that children do provide a joy so profound it has to be experienced to understand).

Lots of stories and adventures were generated by all my kids that I will cherish forever. Now 3 of 4 are married or engaged, so that burden is almost lifted. Many parents live vicariously through their children, but I am not ready to do that. I have some financial freedom now which allows me to play pickleball, golf and occasionally travel. Health is a big new concern that I have to manage; another down with the ups.

In conclusion, happy times throughout my life and living each day to fullest is important because you never know when lightning will strike. I don’t take for granted all the ups and downs. I try to learn from them and wake up excited for the days ahead.