Interview: Autobiographer Shirley Skufca Hickman

Shirley Skufca, in her years
at Tulare Union High School
(1958-60)

On the 4th volume of her life story

Interviewed by Moristotle

Early on, as I luxuriated in reading Shirley Skufca Hickman’s Rocky Road Is More Than a Candy Bar, I determined that I had to interview Shirley, if for no other reason than to try to find out how she could remember so much of her life of 60 years ago – even stuff about me that I don’t remember. Yes, I am mentioned a few times in the book, which includes the story of her two years as a new teacher at Tulare Union High School – my junior & senior years and, more prominently, William Silveira and Jim Rix’s as well. Bill & Jim have already announced and written about Shirley’s book on Moristotle & Co.
    And as I continued to read, even more intriguing questions arose than how she could remember so much. Let’s see what the questions were, and how she replies to them. They are in italics.

Chapter 3 of the book
appeared here earlier this week

Thanks for agreeing to this interview, Shirley. Let’s start with the question of memory. Your story has all the incident of a detailed work of fiction. But the facts are…well, facts, right? How did you remember all of them? Did you keep a diary? Did you maybe invent some of the happenings as “probably the way they happened”?
    Thank you for your interest in my book and my life. I do have a good memory, but I have 56 photo albums and yearbooks. I researched songs and movies so I had the right year. The “happenings” were all true, but the dialogue was manufactured to be faithful to the events and personalities.

A major “character” in the book, of course, is Joe Hickman, whom you met that first year in Tulare and were able to marry (in the last chapter) when you were then teaching in Porterville. I’ll have some questions about Joe and the difficulties you faced marrying him. But for now: did you begin writing this book while Joe was still alive? And did he help you remember some of its incidents?
    Joe was still alive when I began writing the book. In the last two years, I didn’t write much because I was caring for him. After he died, I couldn’t write at all, but as I returned to the book, I felt he was still with me, and I found comfort in reliving our lives when we were young. All of my memoirs are a way of keeping people I love in the pages of my books forever.

Would you describe yourself as a pessimist? I ask because of numerous passages in your book (some of them italicized for emphasis) that voice your doubts and fears about your ability to handle things, especially the huge overload that you signed up for in accepting the school superintendent’s job offer: not only teaching English, but also teaching drama and dance, and producing plays and dance performances.
    No, I’m not a pessimist. I was fearful because of the difficult situation I was in, and my desire to succeed. I’m considered a positive and resourceful person.

Some of your book’s references to your life before Tulare seem to indicate that, even in your youth and teens, you were plagued by self-questioning doubts and fear of failure. To what extent have such doubts and fears continued to accompany you?
    My parents were perfectionists. I didn’t like failure and that’s why I was successful in almost everything I did. I think most people would describe me as very confident. I’ve been in leadership positions on the state, country, and local levels. My job as a teacher was to see the potential in students and help them realize their dreams.

How confident were you when you began writing your first book, “Don’t Be Give Up”?
    When I was six, World War II began and lasted for the next three years. I promised myself that one day I’d write a book about that time, so I consciously tried to remember everything. Thirty years later, my book was finished. One of the best aspects of doing research was talking to my uncles who fought in the war, and some of those conversations are in the book. I also talked to my sisters, who in essence said, “Write whatever you want, and we’ll swear it’s the truth.” I didn’t write anything that wasn’t true, but their faith in me was wonderful.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of Rocky Road Is Not Just a Candy Bar?
    About three years.

Do you think of yourself as “having a writing method”? How would you describe it?
    I begin by trying to remember situations, people, and the period of time. I don’t use an outline. I write whatever I recall and later sew the chapters together, much like making a quilt. I would read a chapter to my writing group ever Wednesday at my house and they would give me valuable critiques. I rewrite, and rewrite, and rewrite. I’m never completely satisfied, but I arrive at a point when I go ahead and publish the book, whether or not it’s perfect.

Some of your characterizations of students and fellow faculty at T.U.H.S. are less than flattering. Did you check prior to publication whether these individuals were still living? Or were you not concerned what they might think if they read the book?
    Most of the faculty members are dead. I sent chapters to some of the people who are still alive. Joyce asked that I not use her name. Jim and Bill were fine with what I wrote. My cousin Chic loved the book and cried when he read about my Uncle Bill, who was his stepfather. We are very close because of our mutual love for him.

You didn’t give the name of an individual you refer to as “Miss Prim,” however. At any rate, I don’t  t h i n k  any teacher at T.U.H.S. was named “Prim.” I’m going to whisper a name into your ear. [I whisper.] Was  t h a t  Miss Prim?
    [Shirley shakes her head and whispers in my ear.]

[I nod, remembering the teacher very well.] I guess I owe the teacher I  t h o u g h t  it was an apology.
    [Shirley laughs. I think she’s enjoying this.]

I referred earlier to the difficulties you and Joe had marrying, which are a major thread of the book. The underlying problem was that Joe had been married before, had a child, and was now divorced, and you were a Catholic. Obviously, you took the church’s prohibition very seriously. In Chapter 22 you refer to Aunt Snaha’s lecturing you about marrying a divorced man and describe her as “my most religious aunt,” who “believed in every dictate of the church.” How “religious” were  y o u ? How did you decide whether or not to believe in this or that church dictate?
    Aunt Snaha, as it turned out, proved to be very supportive of my decision. It was my Uncle Johnny who opposed it. I was a cradle Catholic, and in those days I believed everything the Church taught, although I don’t now. Joe was very devout and at one time went to Mass every day. When the church became more political, he only went to Mass occasionally. My friend Joan and I share the same attitude. She puts it this way: “My church is like my family. I don’t agree with everything they do, but I love them anyway.”

Joe accepted that, as things stood, you couldn’t be married in a Catholic church. He doesn’t seem to have surprised you by offering to “become a Catholic,” for you laughed and said, “Do you know how many guys I dated who made that offer?” But I was surprised by what you said next: “Luckily for them, I turned them down.” Were you joking, or was there some deeper meaning behind “they were lucky not to become Catholic”?
    I wasn’t joking. When I tried to break up with two of them, they thought the only thing standing in our way was that they weren’t Catholic. I declined the men and their offers to convert because I didn’t think they should become Catholics just for the sake of marrying me. Obviously I changed my mind when I met Joe.

In Chapter 23, you seem to be complaining when you quote yourself as saying to Joe, “[Father Martin] hasn’t done much so far. You’re already taking classes to become a Catholic. We’ve paid hundreds of dollars and still no permission.” What did you  r e a l l y  think about what the Catholic Church was demanding of you?
    I thought the church was being unfair. That’s why I wrote the letter I quote in the book. The letter seemed to make an impression on them, for we were soon granted permission.

Rehearsal for Room for One More,
the 1958-59 Junior Class Play.
L-R: students Jackie Taylor,
Jennifer Barlow, & Caryn Findley;
Shirley positioning student Morris Dean

I was much struck by two other, lesser themes of your book: attitudes toward Negroes in Tulare, and treatment of girls. In Tulare, you confronted your supervisor about bypassing a talented black female dancer and, fortunately, got the superintendent’s support when you reported the incident to him. As a student, I don’t remember ever seeing anything like that. Were there many more such incidents, which didn’t make it into the book?
    No. There were only two such incidents, both involving the talented girl. Besides my supervisor, there was a boy who didn’t want to dance with a Negro (the term in use at the time). He expected me to have her leave, and when I didn’t agree, he himself left.

Here’s my question about treatment of girls. In Chapter 26, after you have left Tulare and are teaching in Porterville, you refer to “Kathy, a pretty blonde [age 9],” who “was very smart and did well in school, although it was a tough time for a girl.” Have times improved for girls, do you think?
    Yes. It was a tough time for girls, although, as a girl, I never thought I had limits myself. My parents often said, “You can be anything you want to be as long as you’re willing to work hard.”
    Times have both improved and become worse. Girls can participate and succeed in sports, and they have opportunities they never had in the period covered by the book, but they also have more pressure on them to have jobs, husbands, and families. Some women would love to stay home if they could afford it. But I didn’t like sports, and I didn’t feel I had limits on doing the things I wanted to do.

Shirley, Chapter 27 was excruciating for me to read. In it, you talk about a “severe depression” in your first or second year in Porterville, about having “suffered from it at times,” about its being “a visit from a dark angel.” You even describe thoughts of suicide, and confess they weren’t your first such thoughts; you had had them in your teens. Have you come to understand yourself better now with respect to depression? Have there been manic phases as well? (Until cognitive behavior therapy “saved me” in the early ’90s, I myself experienced a number of disruptive mood swings.)
    I’m basically an upbeat person. The four times I’ve experienced depression were during times of physical illness. As soon as I’m well and can be with people and resume activities, I’m fine. I refuse to take antidepressants.

In Porterville, Dr. Westerman pointed out to you that “You’re a perfectionist.” Did his intervention help you deal with that?
    Yes. He was but the first of several counselors who helped me.

Ditto to that for me too. I had a Dr. Ross who pointed out my own perfectionism to me, and it really helped. Like Dr. Westerman, he even set me an assignment to deliberately make mistakes to find out how insignificant the results would be.
    I’ve learned that most mistakes are usually learning experiences.

I may have asked too many questions already, but is there a question I haven’t asked that you wished I had?
    I wish you had asked why I married Joe after refusing others.

Ha, I think you answer that question  v e r y  w e l l  in the book. But you must just want to say it again here! Why did you marry Joe after refusing others?
     [Shirley smiles.] I didn’t love any of the others. When my father died, I felt I had no one to take care of me, although I had a loving mother, lots of caring relatives, and two sisters who loved me. Joe made me feel safe. I also knew he would support me in everything I wanted to do, as I did him. We were a good team.
    My mother knew I’d marry Joe before I did. One sadness in my life is that my dad never met Joe or my son, Joseph, or his boys. They all liked model trains, building things, and would have been good friends. My grandson Steven was named for my dad. He’s going to Cal Poly next year and will major in construction management.
    In a way, Joe is still taking care of me. He designed our house so I could live downstairs. He built most of the furniture in our living and dining rooms, a computer desk, the kitchen cabinets, my sewing table, clocks, and, of course, book shelves.
    I have a very busy and happy life, but what I miss most is Joe holding me in his arms and kissing me goodnight.

[Shirley is crying now, but I think they are tears of happiness as well as of sadness.]

Copyright © 2020 by Shirley Skufca Hickman & Moristotle