“You speak about your son more than your daughter,” said a student during the 2019-2020 school year.
“Let me tell you,” I said with a smile. “I don’t worry about her as much because if anyone tries something, she will put them in their place quick. Corrie can call out adults on their lies.”
I am proud of both children.
I was so proud of how independent, intelligent, and aware Corrie was during her life. I was so happy that she was not like me because she would not deal with the same bullying I did. Everyone always comments on her beauty, but she possessed an intelligence and wit beyond her 5.5 years.
Yes, I’m her mother.
Yes, I’m biased.
But I saw Corrie in a way not many other people did. I witnessed her actions at home and school. Corrie compartmentalized parts of her behavior and what she wanted to share from an early age. She knew the part of her she would show at preschool. She was aware of her public image, and what her teachers and classmates saw.
She never once had a melt down at school, and her teachers would find it hard to believe she ever acted any other way.
I smiled when people said: “She’s such an angel.”
Now, as I hurry up the stairs in our one hundred ten-year-old house, I feel a closet door creak open, and a long hand with warts, hair, and claws for nails grab my shoulder. The five going on fifteen-year-old believes with the certainty of a president-elect, who’s won by a landslide majority, her fashion sense does not require an approval. When I enter her room, I spot a rip on the right knee of her pink leggings. She wears dress-up Frozen 2 boots.
from my memoir manuscript called “book” about our 2020-2021 family survival by rebecca t. dickinson
Corrie had a wall up from an age as early as two, so people only saw the side of her she wanted. That is a skill we come to possess as young adults, but for a child, it amazed me.
For all the days she and I had strong conversations, I was so proud of my daughter.
So very proud!
By Rebecca T. Dickinson
Corrie's Season 