an object of affection // porcelain slippers

Mrs. Warner was my third grade teacher. She was not nice. She yelled. She compared students' in class. She timed our tests and announced the grades publicly; announced those who failed to finish in the allotted time. I don't think Mrs. Warner was a bad person. I do think she was a bad teacher. She cared for us in all sorts of unproductive ways, disciplined us in ways that didn't promote good behavior. Looking back on it, the only cohesive feeling in that classroom was a unified dislike of our teacher. How sad.

Yet, for some reason, I've held onto an object from that very classroom for the last 18 years. For Christmas, Mrs. Warner set up a small, fake Christmas tree. It sat on a table in the corner and on the last day before Christmas break, ornaments appeared. One for each student in the classroom. I can't remember what the boys ornaments were, but all the girls received porcelain ballet slippers. I wasn't a particularly feminine little girl, but I have always adored all things ballet, and I treasured this porcelain tribute.

My ballet slippers have hung on doors and from Christmas trees. They've sat on bureaus and in desks. Despite the overwhelming feelings of dislike I still have for my third grade year, this memento remains an object of affection. I'm sure these little ornaments were not an indulgent purchase for my teacher. I imagine her taking a trip to the Dollar Tree or ordering from an Oriental Trading Post catalogue. Still though, we loved them. I thought- I still think- my little slippers are beautiful. They're a memory of childlike value, the feeling of treasuring a simple gift.