Grade School Horror Stories

My dear friend Kate over at One More Thing Posted a story this week about the different teachers that she had as a grade school student, and the memories that they left behind with her.

She started her post with:

"How old were you before you had a nightmare in place of a teacher? And while we’re at it, how long did it take you to realize that teachers could love their jobs?"

I only had to think for a few seconds about this one.

I can clearly remember the teacher that made me want to become a teacher (other than my mom).

And I can clearly remember the teacher that made me HATE school with a passion.

But lets start from the begining.

In Kindergarten, the only thing I clearly remember is the teacher asking my mom and dad what I went by. You see there were 3 Patricia's in my kindergarten class. There was already a Pattie, and a Tricia, and they gave me the option of how I wanted Patty spelled. I liked the way the Y looked at the end of my name.

In first grade I remember that I had my mom's cousin's wife for a teacher, she was a nice woman. I thought it was cool that she had the same last name as my grandparents, and that I would see her at different extended family events. I know we had a student teacher that year too. We had a butterfly house that year.

I don't remember a whole lot about second grade, other than having a student teacher.

Third and Fourth grades I had the same teacher. She was so much fun, and I remember learning a TON of things. Mrs. J always came up with new ways for us to learn, and new things to try. If you did something wrong, Mrs. J always took a few extra minutes to explain to you what you did wrong, and how to fix it. I was on a lower reading and math level than most of the kids, but that was ok with her, she took the time to read with us, she took the time to give you a hug if you needed it.

Fifth grade was the year from H*ll for me! The summer before 5th grade my family moved from Iowa to Arizona. I had a very racist teacher that year, racist against white people. Every little thing that I or any of my friends did and we were in trouble with her. I remember standing outside the classroom one day at the end of lunch under a little tree, she thought she saw B and I swinging on the tree, so she sent us up with referrals. The teacher next door tried to tell her that we weren't even touching the tree, but she was positive we were. Then I was in both chorus and band that year, which meant every day for 45 minutes I was out of the classroom. She gave me a D in Social Studies because I was never there for the class. When my mom called her on it, she told my mom that I had a problem with her because she was black, and that I gave her a hard time because obviously I had been raised that black people were "bad". I believe my mom probably had to laugh her hind end off, since Mrs. J in Iowa was black as well, and well I loved her! We finally came to a time of peace after that meeting of the minds between her and my mom, but I never forgave her. I hated school that year, did not want to go ever!

6th Grade I had two teachers, Mrs. E and Mrs. R team taught us. Our classrooms were one huge classroom. Mrs. E taught certain subjects and Mrs R taught the others. IT was a great year! They took the time to take care of all of us. We did many fun activities and learned so much that year, because they both focused on what they were the strongest on to ensure that we had a positive year. Both of them were just the right level of strict, and both of them showed that they cared a great deal about each of us as a person. They gave us our first "dance", and did all sorts of nonconventional activities, that taught us about the real world. They taught us to accept people for who they were in their hearts, not by the color of their skin, or their religon. Mrs. R got remarried that year and invited us to the reception at her church. They were the best teachers, ever I think. I loved that year, I still wasn't the best student, but I enjoyed it a whole lot more.

I had other teachers through the years that meant a lot to me, but none like the two of them.

But I would be remiss if I didn't thank,

Mr. Z for giving me a love of science and telling me every time that he saw me from 7th grade till Jerry and my wedding that I could do and be what ever I wanted.

Mr. S for giving me a love of history, through his Cival War reenactments.

Mr P for encouraging me to go for my dreams.

Mr. F for never letting me give up my musical dreams.