Don't you just love that look of smug satisfaction on her face? She doesn't care one whit how much trouble she is in because the fight was worth every minute of whatever punishment she gets! See how her pride shines out of her face? She will remember this moment through all her life!
I wonder what the principal said to her mother, who doesn't look too happy at being called to the school because of a scrappy, tomboyish daughter. There is something else on the mother's face though; it is concern. She is worried that her daughter's black eye may be worse than it appears. Still, I'll bet that kid got a spanking when she got home - or maybe a "switching" with a hickory branch.
Except for the fact that I was not a fighter (I ran from the merest possibility of conflict), I could have posed for that painting. I wore my dark hair in braids and I had many a plaid, pleated skirt for school. I even wore similar shoes until I was about nine. It is funny how an illustration like this can prod you to remember things from your own childhood. What does it evoke from your memory?
Note: scroll down to the "caption this" post for the original caption.
21 comments:
For me it evokes the first fight I ever got into, when I was about seven. (I didn't usually get into fights either, but this one was special.)
We had a boy called Eddie in our class, part of what I now suspect was an experimental thing where mentally disabled kids were placed into classes with ordinary children. Eddie was treated with suspicion at first, but quickly became the class mascot. Everybody loved Eddie. He was always available for cuddles, and we all looked after him.
One day I was coming back to the classroom just before the end-of-lunch bell sounded, and saw some older boys taunting Eddie. Eddie wanted to get to the toilets, but they were stopping him, and telling him that he would wet his pants during class, ha ha ha. Eddie was in great distress. He kept trying to get to the toilets, and they kept blocking his way. He was in tears, but refused to fight. And I knew that when the bell went he would go to the classroom without going to the toilet, and he would wet his pants, because he was a good boy who did not want to be late. And he would be humiliated.
I saw red. These boys did not know Eddie. They just saw a handicapped kid and picked on him, and it made me FURIOUS. I ran straight at them, screaming, "EDDIE! RUN! RUN!" and I beat them up.
Well, actually, they beat me up. They were a lot bigger than me. But Eddie got to the toilet, and that was what mattered.
I did not get into very much trouble. I had to explain the blood and the bruises, but I couldn't identify the boys, and since Eddie backed me up I guess the whole thing was just dropped. I can't really remember that part, just the extreme anger, and the feeling even as I was being beaten up that I WON! Because Eddie got to the toilet!
Just like you said, I could have posed for this one. She is everything rotten and fun that I remember myself being. And yes, I would scrap with the toughest of them. The Mom look, had that given to me plenty of times too. :)
I LOVE Rockwell!
I love that. I am not one to confront either, but I do remember one time I got into a fight with a girl who said her dad could beat mine. And he could have. My dad was a slight man; her dad was a chief of police. We did have a hair-pulling, slapping fight.
I'm horrified to think of it now, or to think if my children would have done that.
I love the painting.
TO EVERYONE:
Do yourselves a favor and use the link to badaunt in the comments here to visit her and read her current post. You'll be glad you did!!
Badaunt...everyone should be so blessed as to have a friend like you:)
Oh I was a confrontation AVOIDER!!! But mischief was my middle name, so that part of her expression I relate to completely!!!
I think her face says...I might look bad but you should see the other guy!
Have a wonderful day!
*^_^
(=':'=) hugs
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the Cool Raggedy one
It is amazing how images can evoke certain memories.
Thanks for the kind commnet on my blog. I know that you really do *know* what I am describing as you have been through your own set of trials recently. I sincerely hope that your road is becoming less bumpy too.
The details in all of Rockweells paintings are what make them the great illustraitions they are---I Love the Band-Aid, too....I never even felt like fighting as a kid....I mean physically fighting...
What I love about this illustration too is, as you pointed out, how happy with herself the little girl is...Right there says so very much about who this little firl is....WOINDERFUL WONDERFUL, Judy. I am enjoying these Rockwell posts enormously...It is such a grand reminder of the special talent that he was....!
I could have posed for this two (no black eye for me, though, as I was never in a physical fight, unless you count ones with my sister!). I had long brown hair that my mom braided in two braids until I was 10 or so. And I went to a Catholic school where the uniform looked just like the little girl's skirt!
I had one fight when I was little. I lost.
Me too with the braids, the skirt (my grandma sewed for me), the shoes and saggy socks, and most especially the band-aid on the knee. Every childhood picture of me has one of those. However, I was always the peace negotiator, not the warrior.
Thanks for taking me back.
I was always defending people and getting into fights and ending up in trouble, not by my parents but by neighbor parents. I never felt triumphant, but always misunderstood.
Scrappy? Yes, I was. I also loved being a girl.
I instantly thought of the one time my fist ever connected with a loud mouth girl's face....pure satisfaction. Even today.
I relate to the girl in the Rockwell picture. I didn't get into fights, but I was a tomboy. I was rough and tumble up until about tenth grade.
I LOVE the expression on that girl's face!!!
I was a total chicken. I was scared of boys with snowballs, big kids on the playground, getting in trouble...My daughter came home from 4th grade after beating up some girl who called another girl "a fat kid." I was so impressed! I still am.
I wince when I see it. I am the unseen boy who got beat up pretty good for aggravating her.
Yes, very funny expression... she looks a bit as if she may have taken one to the head too. lol
I never got in fights, nor had to avoid them. I consider this the luck of the draw though.
~S
My Mom has this print hanging in her house - she could have been this little girl, or so she says. I spent some time looking at it this weekend while I was visiting, and marvelling at Rockwell's skills.
Norman Rockwell must have known my sister when she was little. Except for the braids, that's my older sister's portrait.
She was in a class with 40 students - 20 girls, and 20 boys. She fought with every single girl, and 19 boys from her class. The only reason why she didn't fight with the 20th boy, was that he went to the same church as we did.
She used to come and ask me if any of my classmates were bothering me, and then she'd thump them for being mean to me. I loved that!
The only time that I got into a fight, I was 5, the other girl was 6 and much, much bigger than I.... I still have the scars on my face from the her nails... thankfully, they are not too noticeable....
I went to a class on Norman Rockwell and his art; it was fascinating. He's a big believer in triangles. Look for them...they show themselves everywhere in his prints.
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