The Narrative Place Holder Chapter

It’s not that I don’t have a lot more to say. It’s just that it’s hard to organize it all into neat little chapter units with clever little titles. But the important thing is to keep writing, right?

Oxford was a “traditional” school. We did mostly book work, but with a lot of loosely structured “enrichment” type activity, some of which is quite rare in today’s schools. For example, beginning around 3rd grade, we’d get “book report” assignments—but we were allowed to pick any book we wanted. Teachers would march us to the library and basically turn us loose for 45 minutes to find some interesting book. We got a lot of “project” work—making African masks out of paper-mache or a llama out of wire and cotton batten. Once Mrs. Powers had us growing bacteria on petri dishes filled with unflavored gelatin. Up to that point, I had never heard of unflavored gelatin, and the very idea amused me more than the ugly spores we grew.

We had ample art and music at Oxford, each one at least twice a week. Mrs. Edwards became our music teacher after 3rd grade (replacing kindly old Mrs. Hood). At least once a year she’d bring in her huge orchestra quality xylophone and play for us amazingly—holding 3 or 4 beaters in each hand. I can’t remember our art teacher’s name, but she was truly an “art teacher” with all the flamboyance one might imagine.

Our teachers gave us a good deal of “free time” during the day. Often that was so we could finish our leftover work from the day, but if we had already done it or most of it, we could read or take a sheet of manila paper and draw to our hearts’ content. Sam, Tim, and Bob were the best of the boy artists, filling their paper with beautiful drawings of tanks, war planes, soldiers, and dinosaurs. I could barely begin to match their work, but by trying I learned a lot about 3-D drawing and perspective. Today, it’s unlikely that many, if any, teachers would give students this kind of free time.

So, while Oxford teachers tended toward traditional modes of instruction, they must have also realized that they just couldn’t fill up a whole day or week with all that crap. This is why I claim today that Oxford, with all its old ways, offered students a lot more “free space” than most schools today. I’ve already mentioned the snowball area, the massive amounts of recess, and the four trees. Did I mention how those with enough courage were allowed to climb to the top of the monkey bars and stand freely into the air? Wendy Doll (her real name) did once fall to the ground, and did break her back. Her friend Cassie Sweet (her real name) ran to get the teacher. We watched out our classroom window as an ambulance took her away. Some of the girls cried. But Wendy was back in school 6 weeks later.

A few years ago, when she was in 2nd grade, my daughter came home and reported that it had been decided at her fancy, frilly, trendy school that students could no longer play tag at recess. Wait—they couldn’t even call it “recess.” Since the state had determined that “recess” could not be considered “instructional time,” schools across the state were now calling it “directed play.” God, what a terribly chilling name! Anyhow, my daughter said that the reason for the tag ban was something like, “there are so many trees! So many roots! Someone will surely trip over them!” I told my daughter that she would never get in trouble with me for breaking that rule and that if enough kids did so, the rule would eventually fade away.

“Yeah,” she replied. “That’s sort of what we’re doing.”

A few years back in a town far away, an 11 year-old girl was suspended for persisting in doing cartwheels on the playground even after her principal had decided to ban them. At the time I said “bravo” to the girl and “bravo” to all boys and girls who break silly rules. Just a few days ago I read where a middle school principal had ordered all students to henceforth refrain from touching each other in any way. I like to think that were I a student there, I’d organize a massive group hand shake the very next day. See? You’ve got me started. Got me drifting away from Oxford School and writing about the need for every child to be taught or somehow learn a healthy disrespect for authority. See the film Rabbit Proof Fence and you’ll further understand why this is so critical. Why is it so neglected today?

One last soapbox remark before putting this chapter to bed. Though I fear I’ll sound like Grandpa Simpson, today’s young kids are missing three things we had plenty of: freedom, space, and informal interaction. They lack it at home and they lack it at school. Parents and teachers are apparently afraid to let their children roam free. But I put it to you—if youngsters seldom get to experience freedom, won’t they fail to appreciate it as adults?

Coming Soon: Mrs. Shay, Hell, Devil's Night, Classroom Fires, Corporal Punishment, and More!