Visions From the Past

I often dream of being back in the classroom. Circumstances are always different but the one constant is chaos. My conscious mind tells me that at these times I am trying to sort out some situation in my present life. I do not ever remember chaos in my classrooms , it was always orderly, often a quiet murmur was in the air of students busy with their tasks or working at their centers.

Some of the things I do remember happening which were not part of the murmur of busy students do come to mind. Once when the children were out playing one of the boys came down the slide head first and momentum kept him going into the ground below. He came up bloody as he had somehow gotten a tooth through his tongue ! This happened at a county school called Twila. The principal and I took him to the camp doctor and he fixed him up right away. Needless to say, from that day forward this child came down the slide in a seated position.

In that same school there was no central heat. By prior arrangement a big eighth grade boy would come to the classroom before anyone else was there and build a fire in our pot bellied stove. The children were accustomed to this kind of heat source and knew to keep a safe distance. Fortunately we never had a burnt hand or anything else. However this same fire builder was unhappy with me. He had a little brother in my class and something which I cannot remember caused him to approach me in a very belligerent way. I was no match for this big boy and would not have wanted to tangle with him. Some of the mountain people could be very aggressive if they felt they had been wronged. By using tact and diplomacy I was able to alleviate the situation and calm him down. I had never been approached in such a manner before and did not want to give him reason to return with intended harm toward me. That incident stands out as it was the only time such a thing had happened.

My last year in the county I was at a school in a mining camp called Chevrolet. I had a precious little blue eyed, blond haired boy named Paris. He came to school in immaculate overalls each day. I had never had such a talker before. It was impossible for him to not talk. It was a nervous condition I feel sure. His mother gave me some history about his condition which she thought had caused the constant talking. Of course his mother was protective regarding Paris but it was not possible for him to learn with this physical problem. His mother quite plainly told me it was my fault that he did not learn. She did not offer an explanation as to why all of the other children did learn !! I always felt sorry about this little boy. If at that time we had access to our modern day school techniques of testing children or doctors who could diagnose his medical condition perhaps he could have been helped. Since I was not back there again I do not know what happened to that beautiful little boy.

In this county where I taught we had a program for teachers which was under the auspices of the University of Maryland. It was voluntary and I attended a group meeting each week in the evening. The leader of the group was a former principal of mine when I was in junior high. Her name was Ruby Carter. We each selected one of our students to study for the year. We kept notes and shared anecdotes regarding this child. We would discuss these in our group in order to gain some insight into the behaviors which caused us to choose that child. This was all confidential and I found it interesting and informative. The child I chose was Paris. Whereas our county was progressive in this child study area there was no money for trained psychologists or special education teachers.

As all of this took place in the late 1940's and early 1950's it is understandable that more help was not available for this little boy. He will always have a place in my heart and also a deep regret that I could not help him. At the end of the year he had learned to recognize 9 words.

The Good Old Days Part 2

In that first year of teaching I had an unconventional way of beginning our day. I began it with singing. I sang to the children " Good morning to you, good morning to you, good morning dear children, oh, how do you do". They would sing back to me. "Good morning to you, good morning to you, good morning dear teacher, oh how do you do." It was a signal that our school day was beginning.

We had some interesting things going on in our classroom for the two years I spent at that first school. We had been discussing animals and frogs so one of the boys brought in some frog eggs. I brought a fish bowl to school the next day. We put the eggs and water into the bowl. This was in the spring of the year. By and by we noticed a tad pole and eventually the frog emerged. We put a tree branch in the bowl and the frog found his way up on the branch. He was bright green with knobs on the ends of his feet which served as suction pads. We learned he was a tree frog. We returned him to the area where he was found but had the pleasure of observing his development.


At that time in the late 1940's we had a unit on pets. As part of the unit we decided to have a pet show and make some money for school supplies at the same time. So, on a designated day the children who had pets brought them to school and with the pets on their desks the entire school, room by room was invited to come in and vote for their favorite pet. A vote was one penny. We made about $20 and the winner was a hen named Betty. She was brought to school in a wire cage. I thought it was a fun time for the children and it is something we probably would not be allowed to do now.

These children were schooled in the ways of the woods as they were living everyday in the mountains. They appreciated the things we did in the classrooms. Remember there was no television to occupy their time. Most did not have newspapers, magazines or books in their homes. One of the great things about those mountain children was that I never had a discipline problem. They were so very well behaved.

I fell in love with one little boy who had lost both of his parents and had come to live with his grandparents. His name was Clyde and I saw so much potential in him. He was a very bright little boy, well mannered and well spoken. I wished that I could have adopted him. I never asked to as his grandparents loved him and he really belonged to them, but he touched my heart as no other child had done. After he was grown I met him in my home town and visited with him. He became a newspaper editor so my faith in him was well placed.

My second year there my niece was a student in my class. She had been to Kindergarten in Peoria, Ill. where her grandmother lived. She had spent the year before there with her, so she was much better prepared for school that the children who had not had that experience. Her best friend lived across the road from her. This best friend told my niece that when she grew up she was going to be a teacher but not like me. She was going to be a Christian teacher. She thought I was not since I wore nail polish. That kind of thinking was not uncommon at that time in that area.

I recall one little boy named Howard. He was very young and had not been away from his mother before coming to school. He cried a lot and that was not all. Each day he would jump out of the window and run home. One day I had an orange in my lunch. I offered it to him and he peeled it and ate it. It was like magic for he never ran away again and the crying stopped. I heard sad news about him about fifteen years later. He lost his life while riding a motorcycle.

In that state and at that time the superintendent of schools for the county was elected. Before an election the schools were dismissed early and all of the teachers were expected to go out to the various homes to campaign for the incumbent superintendent. We went in pairs and I went with a second grade teacher whose daughter was one of my students. At lunch time we went to her home and she made a sandwich for our lunch. I had never had anything like it before or since. It was cheese with brown sugar on it between two slices of white bread. Surprisingly, it tasted good.

If a teacher became ill there was no list from which to secure a substitute teacher. This did not happen often but it did a couple of times to me. My class was taken over by an eighth grader. Our principal was also the eighth grade teacher so he simply selected a good student to stand in for me. I do not recall there ever being a problem in my class due to my absence.

At the end of each month we had an attendance record to prepare. It could be a nightmare as we had to count half days. An accurate record of attendance was important because of the money that the state allotted for every child for each full day of attendance.

When I first entered college my plan was to major in Art. I had two years in which I took all the Art classes I could cram in. Then my oldest sister had a heart to heart with me and insisted that I change my major to a more practical outcome. I cried for three days but I had to obey and that is how I was steered into teaching. While at this first school, wanting to share my interests , I formed an after school Art club for the higher grade students. We would meet after school and take our drawing boards and paper and usually charcoal or dark pencils and find a spot overlooking the valley. We sketched what we saw in the landscape. It was a fun thing for me and I think for the older students also.

In spite of the antiquated building, materials available, books, furniture, transportation and general inconveniences, I look back on those early years of teaching with fondness. How could I do otherwise for the young children I worked with were so sweet, innocent and appreciative. It was not like work but more like play. I have been told that the school had burned and was replaced with a one story building below the hill I used to climb. No doubt this building has all of the amenities of any modern school . Perhaps each first grade classroom has its own bathroom. The school probably has a lunchroom and certainly a parking lot for the teachers cars. The playground must have playground equipment other than swings which is all we had. And if a teacher must be absent a qualified substitute will be called in and she will find detailed plans on the teacher's desk to guide her for the day. There will be teachers meetings, in service on a regular basis, a music teacher, gym teacher and maybe even a school counselor. Who knows maybe one of those teachers is a descendant of one of my first students. That is a happy thought for me.