I love to watch the
expression on the faces of the students I work with when I tell them that I was
never taught to print.
When they hear that I
learned cursive in first grade, they generally want to know, “What about
kindergarten?”
Then I tell them that
my school didn’t have kindergarten, and my mother saw no reason to send me to
public school to play dress-up, play in the playground and the sandbox, and
take naps. I had all of those things at home; no reason to catch other people’s
germs.
Nowadays, kindergarten
has replaced first grade in the learning department, and what my peers did in
kindergarten, children now do in pre-school.
I only missed out on
the socialization part, and I’m not sure I ever quite caught up.
But those are not the
only differences in schools of today versus “in my day.”
I still think I had the
advantage, learning cursive and never having been formally taught to print. Our
teachers assumed we were all intelligent enough to figure out how to print. It
isn’t that hard.
I did. Well, with the exception of the letters that
I reversed until mid-high school. Even those, I figured out ways to fix.
Z, for example. I reversed that. But I
discovered that if I wrote Zorro (a popular TV show of my childhood) on the
bottom line of the letter, if all of the letters came before the Z when I tried
to read it, it was backwards.
Now teachers teach the
children who reverse b and d to make two fists with their thumbs up. The one
that comes first (the left) is the b, while the one on the right is the d.
I had my own way. Make
the bed.
Huh?
Well, you need a
headboard and a foot board. Then put the pillows (the half circles that make up
the rest of the two letters letters) in the middle. Then let e jump on it (since
monkeys aren’t allowed to jump on the bed.)
Okay, it’s a bit out
there. There I go, thinking outside the box again.
But having learned to
write, there were other subjects to master. While I know when to use fewer and
when to use less – something many do not – and which to/two/too to use, as well
as when and how to use lie and lay, there were other things I did not learn in
school.
For example, when my
husband, Blue Scream of Jeff, told me he learned about the Vietnam War in
school, I thought he was joking. Yes, he’s younger than I am by about a decade,
but still! We did not learn that in school.
We lived through it.
When I was a senior in
high school, they had finally finished arguing about what shape the table
should be – I thought at the time round was a no-brainer – and had started the
Paris Peace Talks. We sometimes watched that on television in Social Studies
class.
Years later, after
failing to get a job in my field of study from college, I fell into teaching
fifth grade quite by accident. While the school was still as white as mine had
been, some color had been introduced to the history books.
“In my day,” African
Americans – who were called, by the nun who taught me, Negroes and Nigresses –
were not introduced into American culture until we studied slavery. Yes, it was
mentioned in passing that George Washington and Thomas Jefferson owned
plantations, and therefore slaves – although Sally Hemmings was never mentioned
in Catholic school! – the idea that there were free blacks in any of the northern
states was something we were not told.
Imagine my surprise as
a teacher when, preparing my class notes on the Boston Massacre, I discovered
that the first person killed in the skirmish was a man of color, one Crispus
Attucks! And he wasn’t the only black man who fought against the British! It
was a revelation.
While I learned all
sorts of things about Russia, India and China in World Cultures I and II, I
never learned word one about the French Revolution. The first time I ever heard
of Trafalgar was when I bought a Bee Gees album of that name (With Barry Gibb
dressed as Lord Nelson after his having been shot).
We were taught about
the French and Indian War – a war not
between the French and the Indians – but no one ever mentioned that was a
portion of the 7-Year’s War in Europe.
Likewise, we were
taught nothing of Spanish, Italian or Scandinavian history, other than where
history had to do with the popes or Christopher Columbus.
Moving on to Geography,
we were taught countries of modern Europe, Asia and Africa – well the African
countries with the names they had back “in my day.” But while Egypt has
remained Egypt throughout history, I was never able to locate places like
Persia, the Ottoman Empire and the Austro-Hungarian empire in relation to
places we have now, like Iran, Iraq, Turkey, Bulgaria, Serbia, Bosnia, Herzegovina,
Croatia, etc.
I only know Zimbabwe in
Africa used to be what I knew as Rhodesia because it became Zimbabwe-Rhodesia
while I was studying in the UK, and their news was full of that fact.
And what ever happened
to Sparta? That was my favorite place in ancient Greece! I loved the story
about the Spartan boy who stole the fox. You still have Athens, Thermopile and
lots of other places, but just try to book a vacation to Sparta (or for that matter, Troy, to see the Trojan Horse.)
I suppose some years
had too much jammed into them. Fourth grade was almost entirely the Middle Ages
– which is probably why fourth grade was my favorite. Sixth grade had Greek,
Roman and Ancient Egyptian history – which is probably why I absolutely hated
sixth grade.
Seventh grade had
Westward expansion and the Civil War, and Eighth grade covered the
Reconstruction era, World War I (for about 5 minutes one afternoon), the great
Depression (for a depressingly long time), World War II (forever, but without
mentioning much of importance like the D-Day invasion or Iwo Jima), and the
Korean War (which was only mentioned as having been a war).
While I believe in
general I received an excellent education in my first 12 years of school, much
of history was sketchy at best.
We learned about the
wave of Irish immigration, followed by the Italian immigration, and then war
and things, but we were never taught any reasons why those immigrants left
their homes to come to our shores.
Even our shameful
treatment of Native Americans was well hidden with excuses such as the idea
that they were savages, most of whom refused to accept Catholic Christianity.
No mention was ever made of small-pox-infected blankets being given to these
people, or the fact that the US government violated every treaty it ever made
with the Native Americans.
What I learned of the
Potato Famine or Native American history came from my love of reading, well
after I had finished my schooling.
All I know about the
French Revolution came from reading Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities.
I suppose I could have
been a history major in college, although I can’t see that as a good route to a
career, especially since most of the history I did learn didn’t much interest
me.
I loved the Middle
Ages, but my parents refused my request to stay two extra terms at Penn State
to earn a minor in Medieval History on top of my dual bachelor’s degrees.
Who knows where it
could have led? I could have really been something at the Renaissance Faires!
