I admit to being one of those baby boomers that went to elementary school in the mid twentieth century.
It was a lovely time to be a kid.
We recited the Pledge of Allegiance at the start of each school day, including the words “under God”.
Our Christmas programs included actual Christmas songs.
Mrs. Peterson, my second grade teacher, even read us a verse from the Bible each day.
I started kindergarten with Miss Lavinia Mansfield, the same nice lady who had taught my mother's kindergarten class thirty-some years earlier.
It was a lovely time to be a kid.
We recited the Pledge of Allegiance at the start of each school day, including the words “under God”.
Our Christmas programs included actual Christmas songs.
Mrs. Peterson, my second grade teacher, even read us a verse from the Bible each day.
I started kindergarten with Miss Lavinia Mansfield, the same nice lady who had taught my mother's kindergarten class thirty-some years earlier.
Miss Mansfield was a lovely lady, but there was one teacher I wanted more than any other. Her name was Mrs. Flaidlund, and she taught fourth grade. Imagine my delight when I was assigned to her class. I spent a month with her, enjoying every minute, until she asked me to stay in when everyone else left for recess, one Friday.
There was only one known reason to stay in during recess, but being a rule follower, I couldn’t imagine what I might have done.
Mrs. Flaidlund sat on the desk in front of mine, facing me.
“I’ve already talked to your mother,” she began. Those were not words I wanted to hear.
She smiled. Tentatively, I smiled back. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be too bad.
“You are going to be bored in fourth grade,” Mrs F, said, “So I have arranged for you to move into fifth grade.”
I blinked.
“Your mother said it was all right with her.”
I nodded.
“Get all your things out of your desk and I will take you upstairs.”
Just like that, I was a fifth grader. Just like that Mrs. Flaidlund was traded for an older lady named Miss Gunhilda Reese.
She wore orange.
It took me years to like that color.
Fifth graders did reports. They wrote everything in longhand. They did (shudder) long division.
I adapted.
Fifth graders also played cat’s cradle at recess.
Fearing immediate and permanent outcast branding, I appealed to my Uncle Bill who patiently spent hours with me in our living room, twisting and re-twisting a piece of kite string donated by my brother.
Soon, I was one of them. I wrote reports (in longhand). I did long division ,chided only once by Miss Gunhilda Reese for drawing “fences” around my work (I was helping myself to know where one math problem ended and another began).
Even more important, I could “cradle” with the best of them.
There was only one known reason to stay in during recess, but being a rule follower, I couldn’t imagine what I might have done.
Mrs. Flaidlund sat on the desk in front of mine, facing me.
“I’ve already talked to your mother,” she began. Those were not words I wanted to hear.
She smiled. Tentatively, I smiled back. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be too bad.
“You are going to be bored in fourth grade,” Mrs F, said, “So I have arranged for you to move into fifth grade.”
I blinked.
“Your mother said it was all right with her.”
I nodded.
“Get all your things out of your desk and I will take you upstairs.”
Just like that, I was a fifth grader. Just like that Mrs. Flaidlund was traded for an older lady named Miss Gunhilda Reese.
She wore orange.
It took me years to like that color.
Fifth graders did reports. They wrote everything in longhand. They did (shudder) long division.
I adapted.
Fifth graders also played cat’s cradle at recess.
Fearing immediate and permanent outcast branding, I appealed to my Uncle Bill who patiently spent hours with me in our living room, twisting and re-twisting a piece of kite string donated by my brother.
Soon, I was one of them. I wrote reports (in longhand). I did long division ,chided only once by Miss Gunhilda Reese for drawing “fences” around my work (I was helping myself to know where one math problem ended and another began).
Even more important, I could “cradle” with the best of them.
