First Grade Wrap Up

Let me clarify a few things about me, first grade, Mrs. Helman, and Oxford School. First, I was no angel. It's true, I was elected by my classmates to serve as student council representative. (Barbara Hanson, coming in a close second, became the alternate, a word I often got confused with "astronaut.") But I could be annoying, and sometimes downright bad. At one of our student council meetings, for example, eager to talk, eager to impress the big kids, and eager to make an impression with our wonderful and kind principal, Mrs. Cotter, I raised my hand and announced the following:

"I heard that at recess, someone peed on a tree!"

Everyone laughed. Even Mrs. Cotter could barely keep a straight face, and to this day my mom grimacingly recalls the glee with which Mrs. Cotter related that story to her at a parent teacher conference.

Now the mean part. Haven't we all seen movies, TV shows, or cartoons where someone sticks out a leg and trips someone? I remember seeing either Jimmy Cagney or Edward G. Robinson do it in some old movie. Do you suppose some little kid might be fascinated by the physical logic of such an act? Maybe even copy it in real life?

I was seated at a desk on the aisle next to the bookshelves running along the windows. A little girl, one of the few whose name I don't remember, was running down that aisle. On sheer impulse -- there was no time to really think! -- I slid my leg into the aisle, tripping her solidly. Dramatically, she flew and crashed down the aisle and arose crying terribly.

"Roger tripped me!"

I felt doomed. A world of yelling, spanking, and shame was in store for me. And it was only a moment away. Mrs. Helman spoke.

"Roger didn't trip you. You were running."

"No! He tripped me!" the little girl sobbed.

"No, you were running. That's why we don't run in the room."

I think the was my first "dodging the bullet" feeling. But it was relief drenched with guilt. On TV, say like on Leave it to Beaver, Beaver would go see Miss Landers the next morning and confess. Not me, brother. Chalk it up to fear and an undeveloped conscience.

Oxford School may not have always been a safe haven for kids. But I learned a lot of stuff, inside and outside, formally and informally. Mrs. Helman taught be book stuff, but she also taught me about trust--that is, who not to. In two years at Oxford (and there are more stories to come!) I learned that teachers could be kind, fair, stern, unfair, wrong, and even mean. I guess, in other words, Oxford started me on a path toward exercising judgment and understanding justice.

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