I was fortunate enough
to attend kindergarten, elementary, junior high, and high school from 1955 to
1968. My son attended from 1996 thru 2009. I am convinced that the state of
education did NOT improve in the years between us. Yes, I am old, cranky, and
more on the conservative side (with a few liberal leaning ideas in areas), but
when I think back and compare my school days with his, I want to weep for all
that schools tossed in the 40 years between us.
I remember starting the
day with The Pledge of Allegiance. There was something so right about standing
up, facing the flag at the front of the room, placing my hand over my heart, or
the vicinity thereof. It wasn’t until junior high health class that I learned
it was not somewhere near my left shoulder. My 25 year old son has probably never heard it. Shame on me for that.
Back then those words meant something, even though a whole lot of
people had trouble with that ‘liberty and justice for all’ part. A number of
folks I reckon, still think that it’s liberty and justice for all, as long as
you are just like me and my beliefs. Another part that seems to create havoc is
the ‘under God’ part. In order to help create the peaceful existence that is the
American Dream, in 1934 the National Conference of Christian and Jews came up
with the idea of making the 3rd week in February National Brotherhood
Week. By the 1980’s we apparently had enough of brotherhood and civility and the week disappeared. In
the 60’s there was a wonderful television show called That Was The Week That
Was (or TW3.) An exceptional entertainer named Tom Lehrer penned this song about the subject.
After the pledge was said, we sang the first
verse of “My Country ‘Tis of Thee.” To date, I still prefer it and “God Bless
America” to the “Star Spangled Banner.” Did you know that it was written way
back in 1831 by a seminary student?
I also faintly remember saying the Lord’s Prayer each morning, and no one
complaining it offended them, including the few Jewish children. One sweet
memory is when one of the moms called mine to find out how to fix spaghetti
(that was a huge mistake, as her ‘sauce’ consisted of a 48 ounce can of tomato
juice mixed with a 6 ounce can of tomato paste) because she wanted to fix a
special meal for her daughter’s birthday, but only knew how to cook traditional
Jewish fare. I was proud to be invited to that meal, and I wonder if they ever
learned what real spaghetti sauce tasted like. God, I hope so.
School had the PTA and moms came once a month to a meeting where if you were a 6th grade girl in good standing with her studies, you might get picked to have the privilege of going to one of the kindergarten rooms and babysitting the pre-schoolers that moms brought. I still remember teaching them how to play London Bridge and the Hokey Pokey. Dads were involved in our education too. Once a month (at night) they gathered for the Dads Club. Kids were welcome and we played while the dads talked over whatever they did. At the end of the meeting time, the kids always did some sort of song, dance, or joke telling for the dads. Oh, and most important of all…there were donuts!
School had the PTA and moms came once a month to a meeting where if you were a 6th grade girl in good standing with her studies, you might get picked to have the privilege of going to one of the kindergarten rooms and babysitting the pre-schoolers that moms brought. I still remember teaching them how to play London Bridge and the Hokey Pokey. Dads were involved in our education too. Once a month (at night) they gathered for the Dads Club. Kids were welcome and we played while the dads talked over whatever they did. At the end of the meeting time, the kids always did some sort of song, dance, or joke telling for the dads. Oh, and most important of all…there were donuts!
Grade school was so much
fun, even though we were learning. Not to name names, but I remember battling
Linda Bakerich almost every year for the spelling bee, and in 6th
grade was in a real live play where I was the little match girl. All I had to do was shiver and constantly
call out “Matches, matches” to people passing by, then succumb to the elements, collapse, and woefully die on stage. I was stunning in the role.
The highlight of elementary school for me, was Wednesday afternoon. After going home for lunch (this was the 50’s after all) instead of reporting back to school at 1pm, we walked to either Quayle Memorial Methodist, Immanuel Baptist, or were driven to Blessed Sacrament. I honestly don’t know what you did if you were Jewish or your parents didn’t sign you up for one of the three nearby churches – extra time at home, I suppose. Anyway, while at weekday church school, we got a little dose of religion and human kindness. I was born and raised Episcopalian, so I think because my paternal grandmother was Methodist, my folks chose Quayle, and it was truly a home away from home for me. I remember the walks there, gathering friends along the way, and filing into the church proper. There, Mrs. Schick, the director, led us in a few prayers and then came singing – and the songs were chosen by us kids, never an adult. A perennial favorite was Old Rugged Cross, which today competes only with Amazing Grace in my heart.
The highlight of elementary school for me, was Wednesday afternoon. After going home for lunch (this was the 50’s after all) instead of reporting back to school at 1pm, we walked to either Quayle Memorial Methodist, Immanuel Baptist, or were driven to Blessed Sacrament. I honestly don’t know what you did if you were Jewish or your parents didn’t sign you up for one of the three nearby churches – extra time at home, I suppose. Anyway, while at weekday church school, we got a little dose of religion and human kindness. I was born and raised Episcopalian, so I think because my paternal grandmother was Methodist, my folks chose Quayle, and it was truly a home away from home for me. I remember the walks there, gathering friends along the way, and filing into the church proper. There, Mrs. Schick, the director, led us in a few prayers and then came singing – and the songs were chosen by us kids, never an adult. A perennial favorite was Old Rugged Cross, which today competes only with Amazing Grace in my heart.
After the brief service, we were split into grades and went to classrooms where we had short lessons on a bible story and then some sort of craft to back it up. All along, however, we were learning our portion of the program for the year end pageant. The older you were, the more complicated the task. The three I remember were the Ten Commandments, The Beatitudes, and naming all the books in the Bible….in order. Somewhere around 55 years later, I still have the bookmark I received when I successfully mastered the Ten Commandments as well as the program for my last springtime pageant as a 6th grader. At my 45th high school reunion, three of us Quayle kids had our picture taken together. (I'm the shortie.)
Each year we got to get
on rented buses (there was no school bus system) and travel to Northwest Junior
High or Wyandotte High School, and watch a play performed by the Junior League.
Exciting times. I also remember a number of age appropriate excursions to the
Nelson, where we were versed on a subject we were studying at the time. The
last time there was in high school where we were not accompanied by a docent,
but had free rein of the art gallery and the museum. I remember being in complete
awe of the Chinese temple and its absolute beauty.
Halloween at Bryant Elementary was celebrated by the lower grades dressing in their costumes and parading the halls for the upper grades. With 30+ children in each class, it was always someone’s birthday and nothing was more welcome than a mom and cupcakes. Christmas, the school had a tree, each class was decorated with Santas, snowmen, and paper snowflakes. Santa came to each class. Next was Valentine’s Day, where you took a shoe box, had mom cut a small hole in the lid, then you covered and decorated with construction paper, tissue paper, doilies, and hearts and arrow galore. Picking the perfect set of valentines, and then deciding who got was which one may have been the most important job a child had – no way could you give the wrong one to the wrong boy. We all knew that the teacher asked us to give EVERYONE a Valentine, and we all know that there was that special someone who got two, and an icky someone who you deliberately left off the list. Back then, Valentines looked like this.
Easter was actually celebrated and public schools let out on at least Good Friday and Easter Monday. I don’t ever remember spring break, but if we had one it was centered around Easter, whereas now, it’s around St Patrick’s Day, speaking of which you had better wear green or prepare for being pinched all day.
We had no school
yearbooks in elementary school, so near the end of the school year, we had
picture day, when moms were allowed to come to school, we all filed out onto
the playground and they took photos of our class, special friends, and teachers.
We also had a school carnival, held at night on the playground, each class
having a booth where we could win a goofy little prize for some minor feat of
skill. Then there was Playday. Each class learned some physical skill, then on
Playday we got to go to school dressed for play (i.e. no skirts/dresses for
girls and boys could wear jeans), moms came, and we all performed. The only one
I remember was square dancing, and some Hawai’ian things where you jumped in
and out of poles being tapped on the ground and together. I missed that year.
Sprained and badly bruised ankle.
I am sure there are many other things I am not remembering, but what I do remember was the lack of most of this when my son went to school. Sort of like when Christmas vacation became holiday break, and Easter vacation became spring break (a month earlier), his field trips were few and far between. I don’t think he ever went to the Nelson, Christmas pageants became holiday pageants where songs about Santa, angels, and the birth our Jesus were forbidden, Easter eggs disappeared, birthday treats had to be manufactured and in their original hermetically sealed packages, weekday church school completely evaporated, and Halloween was iffy because someone was sure to connect it to devil worship. These days everything is offensive to someone. No more prayer, pledge, or song about our country to start the day – only morning announcements read haltingly over a PA system. Back when I was in school, we all granted courtesy to someone of a different religion, and while the debate over school segregation was heatedly being fought, we kids knew nothing about it. Our friend was our friend, despite their skin color, heritage, or religion (or lack thereof.) It reminds me of song lyrics from the musical South Pacific.
I know I have skipped around and gotten off my original topic, but I think that says it all. We are no longer teaching our children that people are people and have instead, gone off on entitled ego trips proclaiming our personal beliefs and origins are the only ones that matter. Instead of teaching that all people are individuals and therefore are allowed their own thoughts and beliefs, we are teaching that only the people who look, act, think, and talk like us are the special ones and everyone not like us must conform to our beliefs. Society today is sad.
I am sure there are many other things I am not remembering, but what I do remember was the lack of most of this when my son went to school. Sort of like when Christmas vacation became holiday break, and Easter vacation became spring break (a month earlier), his field trips were few and far between. I don’t think he ever went to the Nelson, Christmas pageants became holiday pageants where songs about Santa, angels, and the birth our Jesus were forbidden, Easter eggs disappeared, birthday treats had to be manufactured and in their original hermetically sealed packages, weekday church school completely evaporated, and Halloween was iffy because someone was sure to connect it to devil worship. These days everything is offensive to someone. No more prayer, pledge, or song about our country to start the day – only morning announcements read haltingly over a PA system. Back when I was in school, we all granted courtesy to someone of a different religion, and while the debate over school segregation was heatedly being fought, we kids knew nothing about it. Our friend was our friend, despite their skin color, heritage, or religion (or lack thereof.) It reminds me of song lyrics from the musical South Pacific.
I know I have skipped around and gotten off my original topic, but I think that says it all. We are no longer teaching our children that people are people and have instead, gone off on entitled ego trips proclaiming our personal beliefs and origins are the only ones that matter. Instead of teaching that all people are individuals and therefore are allowed their own thoughts and beliefs, we are teaching that only the people who look, act, think, and talk like us are the special ones and everyone not like us must conform to our beliefs. Society today is sad.
