Showing posts with label elementary school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label elementary school. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 27

#13, Rachel.

Rachel was my good childhood friend, as sweet as the summer days were long. The backyard of her house shared a fence with the one around our apartment building, and i suppose one day our parents introduced the 2 young girls who were probably always curiously watching each other play.
One afternoon my sister and i were over at her house, and we were all jumping on the bed in her room. I remember also playing dress-up. i couldn't find a particular shoe's mate, so my sister came over to the closet to help me find it. When we turned around, Rachel was gone. Just... gone. We called her name timidly, looked in the hall, nothing. Then we heard the screaming and yelling. I remember feeling sick to my stomach as we crept over to the open window near the bed, and looked over the sill. She had fallen right out the window, down two stories, landing flat on her face. A pool of blood was spreading out around her head. Her mom was screaming. i think my sister and i ran out of the house and back to our apartment. i remember a helicopter taking Rachel away, and we never saw her again. They moved later that year. i heard later that she was "fine". What is "fine", anyway?

Monday, May 19

#8, Mrs. Wyatt.

I almost hate to give Mrs. (Ms.?) Wyatt number eight, as it's my favorite number. She was a tiny, evil old woman who ran the after-school care at LeConte. (This is where i first remember ever eating "Bumps on a Log", ugh!)
She had a shock of white hair and a mean, wrinkled, dark brown face. She always wore puritanical dresses with a belt, which was what she used to hit us with. 16 years later, when i was working at an art store in the same city, i was on a lunch break and saw someone who looked like her pushing a shopping cart full of aluminum cans. My stomach dropped and my breath left my chest. It was actually her. We walked right by each other, and i instantly felt like a 7-year-old girl again, certain that she recognized me and was going to screw her face up into mine and tell me how awful me and my brother and sister were.
She didn't see me or say a word, just shuffled by mumbling to herself... I remember thinking that even she didn't deserve a life like that.

#7, Ron.

Ron was a school counselor at LeConte. He was a huge black man with a booming voice and a sweet disposition, and for some reason i always think of him in shorts and a big T-shirt. Some things i remember about Ron:
Once, after a rain, i cried profusely at the boys who were smashing the worms that had crawled out from the grass onto the concrete playground. Ron put his arm around my shoulder and led me away, and told me just to ignore those boys.
Once, he was absent for a few days, and we found out that he had stepped on a rusty nail while patrolling the yard during recess. Everyone talked about it for days, and we all thought he might never come back: "tetanus shot" sounds like a death sentence when you are young.
When i broke my elbow at the age of seven, i was out of school for a couple of weeks and all of my classmates made me "Get Well Soon" cards. For some reason, Ron was chosen as the ambassador with the mission of bringing these cards to me at home. I remember i was lying in my parents' bed in our apartment, it was kind of dark in the room, and he was talking so quietly and smiling so much. I was so awed to have him in my home!

#6, Mr. Irish.

So for some reason i'm on a school-teacher kick.
Mr. Irish was quite possibly the most awesome elementary school teacher ever. Anywhere. I had him for 3rd grade. His biggest (no pun intended) claim to fame were his size thirteen feet! They may have even been larger, i'm not sure. He was sort of a gigantic gentle giant, who always knew how to have fun and engage the class. Although i think it was in his class that we dissected a squid, and then cooked it in the microwave and ate it with ketchup. I was very sad that he allowed this to happen. He later died fairly young, of a heart attack (was i still in school then?), and pretty much everyone in the community mourned the tragedy. We loved you, Mr. Irish!

#5, Mr. Harbin.

Quite a change from kindergarten. Mr. Harbin was my 1st grade teacher at LeConte Elementary School in Berkeley, CA. His face was always red with anger, and he had an extremely shiny (and red) balding pate. He was thin and wore glasses, and had a terrible habit of smacking the backs of our knuckles with a yardstick when he thought we were misbehavin'. Not a fun year. Our backs sure were straight, though.