The Dark and the Light at Oxford School, Part One

I remember Mrs. Jennings class and my first day of kindergarten. We lined up. We went inside. We saw the coat room. Our moms went home. We were in school.

The days passed. We sat Indian style in a circle around Mrs. Jennings' piano. We marched in a circle. Some of us got cymbals and triangles, though most got rhythm sticks. We had playtime, a long sandbox, a playhouse, a huge tricycle. There were big fat crayons and we all wanted the new ones.

One morning there were two big easels set up in the room, each with a set of poster paints and brushes. Mrs. Jennings asked our morning circle, "who would like to paint today?" Twenty eight kids raised their hands and shouted "ooh, I do, me, me, me!" But two kids just raised their hands quietly. Roger Shouse and Cheryl Peters. Mrs. Jennings chose us because we didn't shout.

I remember the first day of first grade. We marched into Mrs. Helman's room (not her real name) and sat down. No more half day stuff. This was all day school. Mrs. Helman told us we'd all learn how to read. I said out loud--"I already know how to read!" It was true. "I'll teach you how to read better!" she replied. That was also true. But I couldn't help notice her irritation.

Mrs. Lowman was easily irritated. Man, do I have stories to tell! And tell I will, next time. Suffice for now to say that Mrs. Helman was the only teacher who ever slapped my face, and the only teacher who ever wrote a song specifically intended to ridicule me.

Do I have your attention?