By Tobin Barnes
I’ve been in school my whole life. Graduated a few times, but I’m still here. Haven’t moved on.
So what’s wrong?
I’m a teacher. Decided to stay. I like school. And that’s a good thing because my life would have been one long drag if I didn’t. Some people would be suicidal spending their entire lives in a classroom.
That’s because school’s not for everybody. Lot of people couldn’t and can’t wait to get out. I see them every day. Prison, unfortunately, is one way they think of it. And I understand. Academics isn’t how their built. Instead, for some, it’s a means to an end.
For me it’s the end. I’m learning every day. Sometimes I think I’m learning more than my students. Many times they’d probably agree. So it goes.
I’ve seen a lot of changes. And some things, thank goodness, haven’t changed. As with anything, there are good days and bad days, but most of them have been good.
But it didn’t start out that way. My mother had to drag me to kindergarten the first week or so...literally, if I remember right. It must have been embarrassing for her. But I was a mess, younger than my years. I wasn’t mature enough to realize I had it made, finger painting and such. Never actually slept during nap time, too wary and suspicious.
Back then, they didn’t spend much time on numbers and letters like they do now. Most of the effort went to socializing kids so they could start the real learning in first grade. I should have basked in this relative ease, loosened up a bit. I spent too much nervous energy on a slack situation before I had a reason to be tense.
The next year, in first grade, I would learn what tension was all about. Amen.
Sister was a stern taskmaster. But I don’t hold it against her one bit. She had to be. We learned in mass back in those baby boom days—must have been well over thirty of us in there, maybe closer to forty. Don’t know how the nuns did it: snot-nosed kids everywhere. Must have scared the heck out of them.
Anyway, Sister let us know, young as we were, we had a responsibility to learn. The finger-painting days were over. Organization was key. That and a certain application of tension, but let’s call it creative tension or maybe positive tension. With structure and a premium on purpose, we generally paid attention, or at least I did. Don’t remember much bad behavior, perhaps because I always had my eyes forward as per instructions.
We stayed seated in rows throughout class time. We didn’t wander around, didn’t get up unless it was to approach the teacher’s desk. And we did that with trepidation. There were parts of that room I never set foot on. Changing the seating arrangement was like going on vacation.
When another adult came into the room during class, we snapped to attention like Swiss guards at the Vatican. Yeah, as first graders.
If we needed to go to the can, there’s was only a small window of opportunity. When a kid asked to go within forty-five minutes of the beginning of class, he’d be denied. “You should have gone before class started.” When a kid asked to go within forty-five minutes of recess or lunch, he’d also be denied. “You may go when class is dismissed.”
That left about fifteen minutes of golden lavatory time (lavatory, not bathroom), enough for about three kids to leave the classroom, but one at a time. Send more than that and we’d be down there soaking balls of toilet paper in water and throwing them up onto the ceiling where they’d stay for years.
So you had to time the restroom request just right—mere minutes could make or break it—and you might be one of the lucky few. Everybody else was out of luck.
A tad harsh? Don’t know, maybe. But there were so many of us, anything else might have been just too chaotic. Nevertheless, one girl paid an embarrassing price when her timing didn’t work out. For good or ill, the rest of us learned to take care of business when the opportunity arose.
My foundation for further education was established that first year. I was set to go, even though my report card was filled with C’s. And I wasn’t the only one. Sister and the other nuns were pretty stingy with even B’s. It would be years before I earned many A’s.
Guess they were saving those in case someone like Einstein came along. Whatever. This way, we always had some room to grow. Never got to think we knew it all.
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