#78, Ms. Donohue.

My 7th grade French teacher. i was new at this school, and late to start, so i had a helluva time. French was the only language class with any space left, otherwise i would have been in Spanish and who knows how my life would have turned out? i certainly wouldn't have been able to enter that shop and ask for a parapluie that time i was walking around the streets of Paris and it suddenly began to rain cats and dogs. (Chats et chiens.)
Where were we? Right, Ms. Donohue- lots of big, horsey teeth and a short crop of dark silver hair. A winning smile and a sweet, pretty face. For some reason i always thought that she didn't have very many friends among the other teachers at my school. My name in class was "Françine", which i absolutely loathed, but there was no translation of "Heather" and all the cool feminine names were already taken. i used to sit at the back of the class and tie rubber bands around my fingertips just to watch them change colors and become cold, bloodless. (Did you know that each finger on your hand turns a different color? It's true.) i remember once winning an art contest in class, and always thought it was because she felt sorry for me. On special days we would watch movies (La Boum!), and once a week or so we'd watch Téléfrançais, when i swear Ms. Donohue would stand in the back and smile and sing along with the opening song. Adorable. i think she worried about me being so strange, and tried to befriend me by talking to me about rock music, although her references were usually a tad old; we once had a halting conversation about Golden Earring's "Radar Love". And when she found out i drank coffee (no idea how that happened, by the way), she became quite concerned and cited a study that linked caffeine consumption in women with higher breast cancer rates. So mothering. i hope she's still there, still teaching, and still caring about the next crop of troubled kids.

#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.

#4, Mrs. Frost.

Mrs. Frost was my adorable kindergarten teacher. She was ancient, and spoke so quietly that once she asked me to do something and i didn't understand (hear) her, but i was such a shy kid that i was afraid to ask her to repeat herself. I went off and picked up some random object, and brought it back to her. She was so sweet about it, but i remember a puzzled look in her eyes as i walked away. She wore glasses and had a pile of soft, white, wavy hair stacked on top of her head. i couldn't have asked for a kinder, gentler introduction to public school life. She always felt like the grandmother i never really had.