Krause left the room, she would put me or one of the other girls in charge. As soon as the door closed behind her, the boys would start acting up. I got a reputation for being able to stand up to them, which may be why I was elected co-captain of the safety patrol for the next year.
Then there was my sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. King, who drilled us in grammar, but also encouraged us to think and write creatively. It was an assignment from Mrs. King that led me to write my first autobiography, which I later found in a box of papers after I left the White House.
The First Day Of School Essay
My teachers helped to shape my childhood — and my future. When it was time to make one of the biggest decisions of my adult life — where to attend college — I got much needed guidance from two teachers, Misses Fahlstrom and Altman.
Beginning in kindergarten and all the way through high school and college, my teachers were among the biggest influences in my life. One of the best memories was in Grade 9. We used to have two biology classes back to back on Tuesdays. The teacher used to forget her schedule yay and we would enjoy playing on the school grounds instead. Mind you, she hardly attended 40 per cent of our classes. In the 8th grade my English teacher put my name up for the Elocution Competition.
My School Days (school article)
She probably thought I would be a smooth talker on stage because a I loved writing I still do and b I used to be a chatterbox I still am. But I have always suffered from an acute stage-fright and however much I pleaded with her to withdraw my name was in vain. On D-Day, I was a nervous wreck but somehow managed to get through the first two paragraphs.
Then I suddenly sneezed. I was so shocked that I forgot the rest and stood there blinking and sweating. A teacher escorted me off stage after some time. The best, and you could also say the worst at the time, was when I was caught stealing mangoes from the school gardens. Nicknamed monkey, you could always find me above ground, cooling my heels on some deliciously tall tree. Ironic that now I get vertigo from even 5-inch heels. So back in the day, my school principal, Ms. Webber, caught me with the yellow fruits and punished me for a whole month. The punishment of those times would be considered unusual now, but I had to mow the entire school lawn by hand.
Not an easy task, but even though I was a thief, I was a thief with integrity. I did my time with such panache that Ms. Webber had to praise me for my punishment.
Those were indeed the best years of my life. Some of my best memories are walking home from the bus stop up the gravel road in the rain in that rain gear. I can smell freshly sharpened pencils after reading this!!!!
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Please tell me you have a book deal coming???? Something in the works?? Pretty please?? Miss Read would be proud! Lovely story. My memories flash back in my mind of the first days of my school life. Wish i have such experience again. Ingrid, I loved reading this too. It brought back a flood of memories of my own first day of school in We had just recently moved to Milwaukee, from Wheaton, Illinois, and I was so excited to finally have my turn to go to school with my two older brothers. Backtracking a bit, I can still picture my oldest brother, first of our bunch to venture out into that exciting world, walking to school alone in the Glen Elyn countryside with his old hand-me-down lunchbox, newly painted bright, shiny red.
I was so envious. The next year we lived in Wheaton, and I was amazed when my next older brother escaped school at recess to return home for the first couple days, until my parents had a firm talk with him and told him under no circumstance was he to do it again. He also grew to love the place. And now, the next year, it was my turn, but in a new school.
I was so excited. On that sunny day, because my mom was at home with my youngest brother, my two older brothers had been instructed to take me to my classroom before they lined up outside to enter when the bell rang in the usual way. True to form, my oldest brother delegated the task of depositing me in my classroom to our other brother! One of the teachers came to me and asked what I wanted. I told her I had come to school. And then I learned that the kindergardeners were not starting that day, and I broke down in tears—from the disappointment of that let-down, and also from the terror of How was I going to get home?!!!
But she took good care of me, called home, and somehow I got home. Only that my grandma and grandpa from Chicago had arrived unexpectedly at least to me for a visit, so I got to see them and play with my youngest brother outside in our tiny backyard that had an old-fashioned perennial garden in it. I became a bookworm.
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Two of my favorite places to be are still a library or a bookstore. Judi — your memories are great! I too started kindergarten in — in Oak Park, Illinois. I was the oldest of four and my mom was home with 2 little ones and another on the way. I was in the afternoon class and sometimes my mom almost forgot to send me! I took my time walking the 3 blocks, playing, dawdling, etc.
I just stood there crying. At some point a lady in a car stopped and offered me a ride can you believe I took it?? She gave me a kleenex and brought me inside the kindergarten. Amazing how the world has changed! I also was a huge bookworm — still am! You brought back another memory when I was running to school once with white knee socks when I fell and ended up ruining my socks in a puddle that was muddy.