Devonne Brown

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’” said Dad. It didn’t matter if it was to jump into a burning bonfire or go do your homework. Reasonable or not, never say no, not to him, not to Mom, not to any adult, for any reason. It was rude and disrespectful to disagree. 

It became a habit to say “Yes.” Regardless of the consequences, it was my only right. Whether I liked it, wanted it, or needed it, yes was the only answer I was allowed to give. It became a source of helpless, hopelessness as I grew and learned to think. I could read difficult literature  and work hard math problems, but I couldn’t say no, not to my friends, and definitely not to my teachers. 

I was lucky to live in a good neighborhood, go to a good school, and have few friends who didn’t ask much of me. I was the oldest kid in the family, the babysitter of the youngest, the middle kid was hopeless. I stayed away from her and her neighborhood friends. They were all idiots as far as I was concerned.

When I got to college the world changed. I wanted to be an actor, but no. I had to be a teacher, a secretary, or a nurse. A lawyer would have been ok, if I could get into law school, which was doubtful, according to my dad. Rather than fight for what I wanted, I acquiesced and became an English teacher. He still grumbled about it.

When I graduated from college, and got a teaching job, a coach asked me out and wanted to marry me. How could I say no? I’d never been allowed to say no, especially to a man. I didn’t like coaches. I hated sports. I’d never even been to one of the school’s ballgames of any kind and he coached all of them. He was rabid about sports. All I wanted to do was read books and direct plays. We couldn’t have been more wrong for each other. I wasn’t allowed to say no. 

Things have a way of getting away from you. Everyone I knew wanted to put on a wedding but me. When my fiance laughed at the colors I picked for the wedding, I walked away from the planning stage two weeks before the wedding and told everyone I’d see them at ten o’clock the day of the ceremony. He and Mom could plan the whole damn thing. 

The reception looked like a junior high school dance. Chairs circled the wall with his family on one side, mine on the other. I didn’t even pick the wedding cake. 

The marriage lasted eighteen months. 

Another time, my boss asked me to go somewhere to pick up a car with him. How do you say “No” to your boss? I didn’t want to go, but I was afraid of losing my minimum wage job, and he was my boss, after all. Of course, he made a pass at me that had disastrous results. Bless him, he gave me a ten cent hourly raise because of the inconvenience he may have caused me. He made me part of the “Me too” movement.

I’ve taught my children to say no. It stings a bit when they say it to me, but at least they aren’t afraid of me. I hope they aren’t afraid to tell anyone ‘no’ if they feel the need in their gut to say it.