Back to school

Jean Parker Elementary School – where I had at least six years of “back to school”.  New oxford shoes polished white, a new coat from that children’s clothes store on Grant Ave., walking with Mom pass the fire department on Powell Street, peeking into the tortilla store on the corner of Broadway and Powell, listening to their rhythmic clapping of the tortilla ladies, waiting for Officer Joe to help us cross Broadway in front of the Broadway tunnel, sneaking a peek at which boys have been assigned the Traffic Boy* responsibilites at the corner, and then entering the gates, going up the steps to the black top playground where we wait for the bells.

The playground director rings her huge brass bell and we freeze.  At the second bell, we line up with our classmates in our assigned spots.  Mrs. Largomarsino (what a name), appears at the top of the big brick staircase, and as if she was Queen Elizabeth, would say, “Good Morning boys and girls,” and we’d reply, “Good morning, Mrs. Largomarsino.”  We march up the stairs, noticing how shiny the linoleum floors were…new layer of wax with a shiny lacquer finish, then we pass those strange looking headless winged marble statues, turn to the right, pass several doors and then into our classroom.  Another school year begins.

Fresh bulletin boards, new erasers and pencils, lined manila papers, spelling books, reading books and a new teacher.  She looks nice, but she’s also has firey eyes that can turn…all 36 of us are dumbfounded and in awe of this woman who will either spur us onto new learning horizons, or torture us for the next 9 months. 

Miss Doris Wong, Kindergarten teacher, quiet, gentle, yet aloof, and not really warm.  She taught us all the basics even though it was 1/2 day and I had a pee accident in her class.  She told Mom about my accident and I’ll always remember that she didn’t embarass me.

Mrs. Gladys Robinson, 1st grade – African American, tall, wore her hair in a bun, slim and very kind.  I liked her a lot.

Miss Wong was our 2nd grade teacher and I remembered that we wanted to surprise her, that it was her same class from Kindergarten!  Don’t remember much about 2nd grade, but Miss Wong seem more warm and friendly.

Miss Rummell, young, wore her hair short and blonde, very pretty.  She brought an extra pair of flat shoes to wear when she was tired.  That’s all I remembered about her.

Mrs. Sylvia McMIllan, played the piano, loved to teach us to sing songs like “I’ve got sixpence”, “When Irish eyes are smiling”, her husband was some kind of fire fighter and she was very proud of that.  She was short and wore heels and walked fast.  Her room was always cheerful and festive.  I couldn’t spell “receive” correctly several times and she got a little miffed at me.  Did she have a sister that taught at Jean Parker also?

Miss Schmidt, 5th grade, had a reputation of being mean and ugly and she was and Pauline had her as a teacher.  She warned me about her, but I got stuck with her anyway.  No way to get out. 

Miss Schmidt, the witch of Jean Parker, hook nose, pulled back hair and all.  I think she had a sister that also taught there.  I thankfully, left her class in the middle of the school year and transferred to Visitacion Valley Elementary School in Visitacion Valley. 

Infamous words of Miss Schmidt to our class,  “I was walking through Chinatown and noticed the litter and filthy streets.  There was garbage and trash all over the place.   You should take better care of your neighborhood.  You should have clean streets like those in the St. Francis Woods neighborhood.”

So immediately, we knew we were filthy dirty Chinese children who would never be good enough to do anything because we live in trash, and what the hell is St. Francis Woods?  I never figured that out till I went to Lowell High School in St. Francis Woods, and that set me up to hate high school for the next 3 years.

Miss Fay, 5th grade at Visitacion Valley and Mr. Camp, 6th grade.  Those were new and good years.   Made a can candle with MIss Fay, and published a newspaper with Mr. Camp.  Learned to love writing with Mr. Junius Camp.  Fell in love and had crushes in 5th and 6th grade.

Yeah, back to school…some very good memories, but the bad ones really stick like a huge splinter that you can’t remove.

All Good Things must come to an end…

Been off since Good Friday, March 21 and loving it.  We had our pre-Easter dinner at Ron and Pauline’s corned beef and turkey, then leg of lamb with ko chee chong marinade Easter Sunday dinner, changed car oil on Friday and then shopped with Nee on Monday.  Saw Dr. Chin and got my crown on Tuesday, ate lunch with Diane on Thursday, dwwdwp with Pauline on Friday, saw Mom on Saturday and ate lunch and shopped with Bruce on Sunday.  Now it’s back to those 1st graders and the Rain forest will be raining on us again!  Good knitting, good naps and a lot of cooking for the kids, stinky and Bruce.  Next day off will be Memorial Day in May….hanging on by my cracking chewed off nails.

So I’m sick of hearing myself talk

Parent teacher conferences are a necessity of life, school, students, parents, etc. but what do you do when you’re sick of hearing yourself talk conference after conference.  My coffee breath is catching up with me, my feet hurt, the “dinner” school served with good intention threatens to repeat itself for days, and my throat feels like yesterday’s newspaper. 

“your child doing fine…yes, he/she’s in line for 2nd grade…calm the hell down (I don’t really say the last line)…”  Go home, mom and dad and love on them while they still talk to you.