[Sidenote: Awkwardness]
“Minnie, why don’t you rise and walk along with the other pupils when I
call your grade or dismiss the school?” said a third-grade teacher to
one of the older girls.
Ten-year-old Minnie stood by her teacher embarrassed and silent, her
hands making some mild contortions hardly noticeable to a casual
observer. She was not like other children in some ways.
“This morning every time I’ve called you, you have come late or waited
until I have jerked you along. Come, tell me. What’s the matter?”
Miss Jacobs had noted no marked peculiarity in the mental ability of
Minnie. She had been slow in making her grade, but was not at all the
poorest student in her class.
“Come, now, let me see you walk off across the floor. Can’t you walk?
What is the matter with you?” Minnie starts hesitatingly and walks
awkwardly for a few steps. She is plainly confused at the close scrutiny
of her teacher. She stares at Miss Jacobs.
“You may go now,” said the teacher; “but you must mind me next time more
promptly.”
In the afternoon Minnie repeats her dilatory movements. Miss Jacobs at
times forces her to a better speed and once remarked,
“I want you all to notice how lazily Minnie walks.” All eyes are fixed
on her, and with the memory of this painful moment she goes home.