Nov. 26, 2018
Kindergarten: Mrs. Lane - You got married mid-year and brought us wedding cake. Someone
brought baby rabbits for show and tell. That is what I remember about kindergarten.
First Grade: Mrs. McCurdy - You sent me to the hall for using a classmate's head as a shelf
while reciting the alphabet rhyme: "J is for jar, that sits on the shelf." Chris Vernon had a giant
bottle of Elmer's glue.
Second Grade: Sorry. I don't remember you. I do remember the gym teacher writing something
on my report card that I thought said "Busy"--a compliment! My mom told me it said "Bossy."
I still feel defensive about that trait. I prefer to call it “liking my own ideas.”
Third Grade: First year in Ft. Dodge. Again, dear teacher, I've forgotten you. I do remember
my best friend, Janet Windschanz and our fort in the attic of her garage.
Fourth Grade: Mrs. Housman - I loved you--because you liked me. You made us laugh. But I
chewed on my pencils, and one day you slapped one out of my hand/mouth and said “Germs!
Germs!” like they were visible on the pencil. That moment was rather horrifying, and I remember
it. But I still loved you.
Fifth Grade: Mrs. Seymour - You wore a beautiful blue scarf with green polka dots. I cried
during parent-teacher conferences as I told you and my mother how incredibly bored I was
in your room. Why couldn't we ever have crossword puzzles for spelling instead of just lists
of words? Janet Windschanz and I used sign language to communicate across the classroom
as a way to dispel the tedium and you wanted it to stop. It was disrupting, obnoxious.
Sorry. Sort of.
Sixth Grad: Mrs. Noyes (coolest name ever; No Yes). I remember you were crabby. Was
that what you wanted me to remember?
Seventh Grade: My memory strays from my teachers. Instead I remember my mother--recycler
before her time--making me reuse my brown paper lunch bag until it nearly fell apart, while
others at my table got a new brown sack every day. I remember if you accidentally wore yellow
on Wednesday everyone said you were queer.
Eighth Grade: or was it Ninth? Mr. Cass began each Civics class by reciting a quotation that
we dutifully wrote in a notebook. Stephanie Fallon and I made a ridiculous movie about Watergate.
Mr. D-something taught us geometry. On his birthday someone brought a cake and he found the
area, then divided the circumference by the number of students in class to determine how big to
make each slice.
And that’s what sticks. Cesare Pavese said, "We don't remember days; we remember moments."
Slivers of cake bookend my K-9 experience. Maybe there’s a lesson there.
x
No comments:
Post a Comment