The Compliment

Barbara 13, Kristi 7, Jennifer 15

At the age of 15, I received a compliment that would shape me into the woman I am today.

My parents, siblings and I had recently moved to Washington from Pennsylvania and were staying with my grandparents until we found a place of our own. My grandfather was a very controlling, abusive, and sometimes violent man with a god complex. No matter your age, or who you were, if you lived in his house or “belonged to him”, his rules, wants, needs and ideas were above everyone else. Yours simply did not matter and we all knew that if you disobeyed or spoke up against him, you would receive the wrath of Clyde.

One particular Saturday my grandfather decided that we were all going clam digging. It was a cold, rainy, typical Pacific Northwest day and I didn’t want to go. We had just moved and didn’t have a lot of money so the only shoes I had to wear were my knock off Keds and I didn’t have a rain coat. The thought of going to the beach to trudge through the mud and muck to dig clams sounded absolutely miserable. I didn’t even like clams. I had never really eaten clams but as a typical 15 year old, I was sure I didn’t like them.

As shovels and buckets were gathered and loaded up I continued to stew. My grandfather, dad, sister and a couple of our cousins were loaded in the suburban waiting for the last person to load up when I leaned forward in my seat and whispered to my dad that I didn’t really want to go. My dad turned to look at me and after making eye contact said that I didn’t have to go if I didn’t want to.

My grandfather was furious. He told me I had ruined the whole trip because if I was allowed to stay home he couldn’t make anyone else go. He looked at my dad with disgust and told him that if he didn’t get my independence under control I would surely be the death of him. That my will needed to be broken and it was his job to break it.

The words he intended to be an insult to shame my dad into getting control of his rebellious daughter, struck a match and lit a flame in me I didn’t even know was there. I heard the hiss of the match meeting the wick, felt it flicker to life and I knew that flame, although very small at the time, was far to precious to let go out.

It took me a long time to understand that even though that day started out like a typical day in my life, what happened was anything but ordinary. When I chose to speak up, to stand up for myself, my spirit came to life and it probably saved mine.