Elementary school is a place where you first get to develop your social skills. Separation from your family under the guidance of your teachers forces you to find and/or accept your identity. I was fortunate to have a great social experience with school overall but it did start off with some challenges.
Like most kids I went to school because I had to with no particular desire to make friends or to be a good student, following the crowd like most adolescents. Thankfully, I had great teachers who I’d like to focus on during my tenure in elementary school. I made a lot of great friends who became friends for life. Far too many to mention here, but i’m grateful for the experiences that we’ve shared.
Following is a list of my favorite teachers who taught me lessons for life. And some who provided a lot of laughs along the way.
Thanks to Ms. Freeland who showed genuine interest in all of her students and taught us the importance of learning.
This next teacher changed my life literally. Her name was Miss Thompson, the quintessential “Big Mama” with all of the “ingredients”. Plus sized body, full sized mouth and a big bodacious attitude accompanied by a yardstick that was constantly in her hand just in case you forgot who she was.
Third grade, 1st day of school. 8:30 in the morning. I’m sitting at my assigned desk wearing a yellow number fifty five football jersey. I hear Miss Thompson yelling across the room, “Boy in the yellow sweater! Boy in the yellow sweater! Boy in the yellow sweater. Do you hear me talking to you?” I’m nonchalantly looking around the room at the new students. Next thing I know, WHACK! The yardstick came crashing down across my desk. Miss Thompson says, “BOY!!! Didn’t you hear me talking to you?” Shocked, I replied, “You said boy in the yellow “sweater”. I have on a yellow “football jersey”……Trying not to laugh, she did manage a very brief smile (one of the very few that I would see for the rest of the school year) after realizing my sincerity. Then she stated emphatically, “CLOSE THAT WINDOW BEHIND YOU AND PAY ATTENTION THE NEXT TIME I CALL YOU. WHAT’S YOUR NAME? I said uh, uh and could not state my name quickly enough. So Ms. Thompson turned around in a huff, sat at her desk authoritatively and called my name. I replied, “Here”. The whole class erupted in laughter. I was friends with everybody from that point on.
Ms. Thompson was a tough no nonsense teacher from the old school. She taught during segregation, which meant she had little patience for black students who didn’t have discipline, respect and who did not pay strict attention. And I happened to be one of those black students. This was the era of Corporal Punishment and Miss Thompson had no problem being the corporal dishing out punishment as she saw fit. Many of my days were filled with laughter at the expense of my classmates who unfortunately found themselves at the wrong end of Miss Thompson’s yardstick. Being disobedient would put your entire body in harm’s way. Hands, heads, arms, backs, legs. I saw that yardstick swinging through the air way more than I would have liked. Fortunately, I was never the target of her wrath!
You see through all of her “tough” exterior and her “mean” demeanor Miss Thompson was really about love. She loved seeing her students excel in school. She loved seeing her students be their best. She loved seeing young girls in the class who were dressed respectfully and kept themselves looking nice. She always commented on the young boys who were dressed neat and encouraged us to do so. She praised us and rewarded us for doing good work just as much as she admonished us for not.
I became the de facto teacher’s pet probably based on my initial introduction to Miss Thompson on that first day. My classmates accused me of getting special privileges. I tried to deny it, but it was in fact true. One day all of boys were in trouble for something which I can no longer recall. She had all of us line up and started whacking one by one. As she approached me she hesitated briefly then skipped over to the next person. As they started to complain she went back for a second strike on them. I remained dead silent as the tears from my heavily suppressed laughter poured down my stoic, motionless face. That didn’t make me any friends. The fellas didn’t talk to me for two days after that. There was a lesson in this for me.
Miss Thompson made me realize my ability to learn. When she yelled at me or gave me extra work or gave me tougher assignments I never cried or complained. She was the first teacher to tell me that I was a good student and she made a point to let my mother and father know how I conducted myself in class. I was given extra math and reading assignments. She made me feel appreciated for being a good student which boosted my confidence and comfort around my peers as at that time I was just an average little overweight kid from the ‘hood.
As I became older I realized that Ms. Thompson pushed me forward by not limiting my imagination. She piqued my interest in the three “R’s”: Reading, ‘Riting and ‘Rithmetic. I always loved and respected her for that.
Some years later I upon hearing that her husband passed away I called to offer condolences. She did not remember me by voice so requested that I visit in person. Upon opening the door she instantly recalled who I was and hugged me like any “Big Mama” would.
R.I.P. Ms. Thompson
The Real Life Corner 