A PLAN GONE ASTRAY - Segment 3 (Scroll down for earlier segments)
Had I taught school first, I may have found the whole learning process much easier. Without that advantage, I was left unprepared for what I would face in the classroom.
Stumbling into the third
grade, I was welcomed by Miss Quailbreath.
“Hello, Mr. Maberry! I hope
you’re ready for a good year.”
I didn’t know you could have
a good year sitting behind a desk, staring at math problems, and other scary
work. As I was about to sit down, I
spotted the paddle on her desk. It had
to be the same paddle she used last school year, when she was perfecting her
swing. I was sure it was still
warm. She was probably letting it cool. Escaping it was my goal. If I succeeded, it would be a banner
year.
She
immediately laid out her plans for our class.
I would have preferred the paddle.
She informed us that we would be reading the works of Dick and Jane. She divided us into reading groups. The Bluebirds were the best readers. I wasn’t in that group. Then came the Robins; another miss. Next, were the Cardinals. Surely I would be in this group; missed
again. I sensed a downward trend.
Then it happened! I landed
with a thud in the Dying Quail group. I
flapped my wings, trying to get some lift-off.
But it was useless. I could forget
about soaring with Eagles. I couldn’t
even get off the ground.
Hoping to avoid becoming road
kill, and survive the third grade, I developed a very close relationship with
Dick and Jane. I saw Dick run until I
was out of breath. I saw Jane skip. Oh, oh!
Jane fell. Sorry Jane. I saw Spot, their dog. I saw Spot run. I saw Spot chase the mailman. Spot and I had the same problem. We were not good at following our script.
Halfway through elementary
school, I had added Dick and Jane to my list of accomplishments; the other
being my nap time award in kindergarten.
Many years later I found
myself in the sixth grade. I always
enjoyed finding myself because we had so much in common.
It was in the sixth grade that
I was introduced to the multiplication tables. I may have met them before, but
I had little recollection of the meeting.
Mr. Sandal, my teacher said I would have to get to know them better if I
wanted to move on to higher learning.
I would have preferred knowing them as a passing
acquaintance,. Instead, I would soon be involved in an intimate relationship with these
tables. And I didn’t enjoy intimate
relationships with math.
Mr. Sandal arranged for our meeting
with the multiplication tables after school.
It sounded like poor scheduling to me, but Mr. Sandal said he didn’t mind
staying late into the night and coming in every day during the summer,
including weekends and holidays, and missing that vacation he and his wife had
been planning for years.
By the end of the following
summer, I had gotten to know the multiplication tables extremely well. For all their hard work with me, I awarded them with an all-expenses paid float trip down the irrigation ditch.
With Mr. Sandal’s approval,
along with a sigh of relief, I was granted a pardon from sixth grade.
Summer vacation was short-lived
that year. I put in a request for an
extension, but it was denied.
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