Friday, August 5, 2016

Back to School

Hello All:
When I was a kid on summer break I used to hate it when I’d see the first sign of school about to resume. This usually came as an ad in the newspaper with the heading, “Back to School!” Or maybe I’d be at the store with my mother where we’d pass an aisle that had a large sign hanging from the ceiling that read, “Back to School!” A glance down the aisle revealed those God-awful school supplies that the teacher would expect us to use in the upcoming school year.
Well, it’s August which means summer vacation will end in a few weeks for all the kids. As a parent, I now like to tease my youngest daughter by pointing out these unpleasant back-to-school reminders. I might chime the words, “Back to School!” while holding up a Walmart ad with a “Back to School” sale.
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Hopefully your kids won’t have a teacher like the main character in today’s featured writing. Have a great weekend. Enjoy it while it lasts… before the kids go back to school!
Back to School
There are two recesses at Valley Grammar School. Well, actually in the kids' world, there are three if you count arriving at school for the day and playing on the playground before class begins. Then the kids must endure a couple hours of sitting in their desks and learning lessons from the teacher who stands at the chalkboard. At ten o'clock they are permitted to eat a small snack at their desks in an allotted time frame of five minutes before morning recess begins. Then the kids rush out for ten minutes for some much needed play.
It was a Tuesday morning around quarter to eleven, about a half hour after recess. Every morning at this time, Mrs. Lynch's first grade class did an exercise of reading a short story from the reading text book. Each student was to take a turn reading out loud—maybe a few sentences or so from the book—until the story was complete.
"Come-on Brian, pronounce the word!" demanded Mrs. Lynch. She was growing impatient with students like him. He was slow with poor reading skills.
"S... S... So... W... W... W... H...O" Bryan struggled through every word.
"Bryan, is that all you can do?" complained Mrs. Lynch. "You can't even read a simple phrase, 'so who...?'" Then she mocked poor Bryan in such a way to make him appear to be a stupid retard. "This is you! S... S... O.... Uh... Hu... S." She was sure to make a dopey look on her face. "I mean what's so hard about it?"
Mrs. Lynch nosily exhaled and ordered little Susan to continue.
"so who took the cookie from the cookie jar?" Susan read. Although read perfectly, little Susan was shy and bashful. She was terribly soft-spoken and it was difficult to hear her.
Mrs. Lynch proceeded to mock Susan. "You sound like a little mouse on its dying breath." Then she whispered softly like little Susan, "so who took the cookie from the cookie jar?" While doing so, she made a sad face which clearly exhibited the way Susan read.
The entire classroom laughed.
Heather, perhaps the smartest kid in class and seemingly the teacher's pet chimed in, "I like it when you imitate people. It keeps everyone laughing."
"Oh really?" challenged Mrs. Lynch. "Here let me impersonate you." Mrs. Lynch proceeded to skip across the front of the room over to the teacher's desk. "Good morning Mrs. Lynch." She used an exaggerated voice in a somewhat cruel tone which was aimed to mock Heather. "You have a nice dress today. You look nice. Can I be your special student... your teacher’s pet?"
All the kids in the class laughed, including Heather who clearly didn't have a problem with laughing at herself.
"You like that, huh Heather?" asked Mrs. Lynch.
Heather nodded in affirmation as her laughter calmed down.
"Well what about me?" encouraged Mrs. Lynch. "Doesn't anyone want to impersonate me?"
Heather immediately offered, "I will!" She stood up from her desk and scurried over to the blackboard where she picked up a piece of chalk. "Okay boys and girls, we need to learn how to pronounce letters correctly." Heather drew the letter R on the blackboard.
Mrs. Lynch stood some distance away and observed in silence.
"And so boys and girls, what is this letter?" asked Heather who was acting out Mrs. Lynch.
"R!" answered the entire class.
"Good!" congratulated Heather who, for some reason, was able to imitate Mrs. Lynch's voice quite well. "And how do you pronounce it?"
"RRRRRR!" answered the class. This was certainly a fun game. Mrs. Lynch wasn't such a bad teacher after all.
Heather was able to impersonate Mrs. Lynch so well that she even stretched her neck out while partly bowing to correct the students. "URRRRRRRRRR!" she answered in correction.
All the kids in the classroom laughed. Heather sounded just like Mrs. Lynch. She even exhibited the same gestures and body motion while pretending to teach the class.
But unlike the kids in the class, Mrs. Lynch was not laughing. She grew all the more silently outraged until finally speaking, "Wow, Heather! That's good! How did you learn how to do that?"
Heather smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
"It looks like you've had a lot practice." pointed Mrs. Lynch. "Is this what you do during recess? You go out to the playground and mock me with all of your friends?"
The smile on Heather's face immediately went away. Now she stood at the front of the class while trying to defend herself. "But Mrs. Lynch, I was only playing. You told me to do that. I thought we were playing a fun game."
"After all that I've done for you!" shouted Mrs. Lynch. "You ungrateful, little brat!"
"I'm sorry Mrs. Lynch!" apologized Heather. "Please don't be mad."
"You really hurt my feelings by doing all of that!" explained Mrs. Lynch. "And you know what? I don't think I want you in my class anymore."
"Mrs. Lynch, no!" Heather pleaded.
"That's right! You can get out of my class and move next door to Mrs. White's class. Gather up all of your books, pencils, crayons, glue, paper—everything—from your desk."
Heather's shoulders sunk. Reluctantly, she approached her desk and opened the top.
"Take it all out!" ordered Mrs. Lynch.
In two minutes, Heather gathered everything up from her desk and stacked all of her books on top of one another. Then she placed all the supplies on top.
"Now pick all of that up and carry it over to the corner near the door." ordered Mrs. Lynch. "You can stand there and wait. I just need to talk to Mrs. White so she can find you a desk."
It was quite a lot of weight for child in first grade to carry. Heather struggled to maintain her balance while not allowing anything to fall. When finally making it to the door, Heather was ordered to turn around and face the class.
"So you don't like me, huh?" asked Mrs. Lynch.
"That's not true." sadly answered Heather.
But Mrs. Lynch wasn't buying it. "So tell me when you started to hate me so much?"
"But I don't hate you Mrs. Lynch." insisted Heather.
"Is it my dress? Don't you like my dress? Maybe you don't like my hairstyle? Or maybe my teeth aren't white enough for you?"
"You look fine." whispered Heather. Then she asked, "Mrs. Lynch?"
"What????" sharply asked Mrs. Lynch. "What do you want?????"
"Could I put my books down? These are getting really heavy and I'm getting tired."
"What, are you some kind of weakling?" charged Mrs. Lynch. "You can't hold up books for a couple of minutes. You're pathetic, Heather.—you know that? I could stand there for an hour and hold those books without any problem. So I guess I'm better than you. And you're going to make fun of me?"
By now, Heather's arms were shaking. She aimed her face to the ceiling in some effort to summon the strength to keep holding the stack of books and supplies. Remember, this was a child in first grade and she was given a terribly difficult task... actually a cruel punishment to endure.
"You disgust me!" declared Mrs. Lynch. "I'm going next door to talk to Mrs. White so I can get you out of here.
As Mrs. Lynch left the room, poor Heather began to cry. Despite how cruel her teacher was, Heather was actually fond of Mrs. Lynch. And there was just something about being evicted from her class in the middle of the year that didn't sit right with her. Aside from that, the kids in Mrs. White's class were weird. They were the losers who could never do anything right.
As always, the kids in Mrs. Lynch's class began to chatter once the teacher left the room. Would this time be real? There were a few occasions of when Mrs. Lynch became disappointed with a student and threatened to send him or her next door. But it never happened. Well this time Mrs. Lynch looked really angry. Maybe this time it would actually happen.
A minute later, Mrs. Lynch returned and sighed. "Well, Heather, I guess put your books and supplies back in your desk. Mrs. White doesn't have an empty desk for you to sit at.
Relieved, Heather walked back to her desk and nearly dropped everything onto the seat.
While Heather waited for the blood to rush back to her hands, Mrs. Lynch added a final remark, "Remember, Heather: the only reason why you are not next door is because Mrs. White doesn't have a desk. I'm really serious when I say that I don't want you in my class anymore. From now on, things are going to be different between you and me. Understand?"
"Yes..." sadly answered Heather.
And that's what happens when someone mocks Mrs. Lynch, the first grade teacher at Valley Grammar School.

The End!

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