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An argument with my frist grade teacher


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I have, odd, memories of my first grade teacher not liking me very much.  Among other things she was for some reason offended by the fact that I made "hook and base" numeral 1's instead of just a simple straight line and closed triangular 4's instead of open square ones.   This so offended her that she called in my parents to complain to them about them.

 

My mother said, "Look at your clock."   Guess what kind of 1's and 4's they had...

 

But enough of that.  I truly remember one time she corrected me by saying, "Should have.   Not should of."  My response, "That's what I said.  S H O U L D apostrophe V E.  Should've."

 

 

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I wonder if we had the same ones?

It made such an impact on me that when my son started going to PK etc. I made a point of checking out the teachers.

Had my son moved out of the reach of one. 

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I only had one teacher that I really didn't get along with. Fourth grade. You can imagine how happy I was to find out that she moved to fifth grade along with us!:angry::wub:

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I  had a couple  like  that .  2nd  grade  and 7th grade  English .  Dumb  as a stump and  a  chip on their  shoulders . 

 

I came  to  realize  that  part of the  education  that  doesn't  come  from  the  text books  is learning  to  deal/cope with  folks  like  that .  Especially  when  they  are  in a position  of  authority.

 

Great  lessons . .....eventually . 

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My third grade teacher hated me...or so I thought. I didn’t like her at all. The thing that is funny, I learned a lot from that lady. She taught me things I use every day. 

 

I found out later in my third grade year that she and my Dad had a major falling out. She contracted him to redo the woodwork on the outside of her house and to paint her house. They had a disagreement and she sued my Dad. He won. She hated his guts and I think some of that got laid on me...literally. I got paddled at least once a month and spent a lot of time sitting in the corner. 

 

It it all worked out though. She taught me basic math, etiquette, Latin numerals, singing and music, appreciation of classical music, proper sentence structure and punctuation, and she taught us to dance. She wasn’t all bad.

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Being the "too smart, sarcastic fellow who did not apply himself" I never had any problems...except maybe that lying thing, naw not me said the King of Denial (not Egypt)

 

Imis

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Miss Tate was an institution at our small town school. She was built just like the proverbial Mr Five by Five  not not quite so tall. We were supposed to use those fat, eraserless pencils color coded to each grade,blue for first grade.  One night I did my homework with a regular pencil. Called to her desk I was asked “How is Miss Tate supposed to read this skinny little writing? Why don’t you use a first grade pencil?”  I replied meekly that first grade pencils did not have erasers. “Well” I was then duely informed “you aren’t supposed to make any mistakes!”

Great, I thought, I’m in first dang grade and I am already expected to be perfect!  One year down, 19 to go!

 

Seamus

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I recall the result of disagreeing with my first grade teacher, Mrs. Chennault, in 1964 was a spanking.

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Okay, you've shared your stories, so I will do so too.

 

Kindergarten: I was late one day. I don't remember why. My mom always drove me. Miss Blizzard (snicker, that was really her name) shook me and berated me in front of the class. Sheesh what five-year-old has control over when they arrive at school. It must have really bothered me as I still remember it. When I saw my mother, I told her about it and she talked to the Principal. I never had any memorable moments with Miss B. after that.

 

First Grade: I had a weak bladder. We were dancing in class and I told the teacher that I needed to use the restroom. She wouldn't let me.  You can guess the rest.  When I saw my mother, I told her about it and she talked to the Principal. I never had any memorable moments with that individual (I don't remember her name) after that.

 

I seriously think those two women were demented to treat children that young like that. To this day, I never pass up a bathroom break. :o;)

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My first grade teacher tried to make me right handed.  My mother (who was also left handed and went through the having her left hand tied across her chest so she couldn't use it and spankings for poor penmanship) found out when she caught me practicing writing with my right hand.  The next day, my father carried me to school for the first last and only time in my life.  I went to class, he went to the principal's office.  A little while later, the principal called Ms Berger out into the hallway and she, Daddy and the principal had a talk. 

 

I don't know what was said, but after that, I could have written with my feet and she would have been alright with it.  I got C's in writing but she didn't screw with me over being left handed ever again.

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From Kindergarten through 6th grade I had nuns!! We all know stories about them! My third grade teacher was Sister Lillian, what a sweetheart and my fourth and fifth grade teacher (we had a split class) was Sister Mary Francis who I had a boyhood crush on!:wub:

 

The rest I'd like to forget! High school was the worst!

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My first grade teacher was retirement age when she taught my father.
She held the entire class back to the level of the slowest student.
I got in trouble multiple times for reading ahead in our Dick and Jane readers (once I got through it I hated it) and for reading other material (I went into first grade at a sixth grade reading level).

Most reprehensible was reading the National Geographic in class.

I got sent to the principal's office for that.

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Understandable. No one READS National Geographic. They just look at the pictures of topless African women. It's right up there with Playboy.

 

"There's pictures of naked women in there? I had no idea. I was reading the interview with Jimmy Carter."

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3 hours ago, Rye Miles #13621 said:

From Kindergarten through 6th grade I had nuns!! We all know stories about them! My third grade teacher was Sister Lillian, what a sweetheart and my fourth and fifth grade teacher (we had a split class) was Sister Mary Francis who I had a boyhood crush on!:wub:

 

The rest I'd like to forget! High school was the worst!

 

We had Sister Hitler. And Attila the Nun.

 

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I had both my Kindergarten and first grade teachers in tears.

 

K, I had checked out the class wagon for recess, hauled it to the top of a fairly steep driveway, and was en route to a most impressive crash into the side of the building when Miss Wilson just happened to step around the corner.  With a most memorable screech of terror she literally sprinted in her tight skirt on an intercept course and snatched me out of the wagon, which indeed did pretty well damage itself when it hit the brick wall.  She stood there crying, so I joined in.  B'sides, her long nails HURT!

 

First grade, Miss Jones was a kind of nervous, high-strung type.  And for some reason she was always picking on me.  Actually, she picked on all the boys, but me more than most.  So one day, I decided to try to be nice to her. After all, that's what they taught us in Sunday school. (Now, why couldn't reg'lar school be more like Sunday school? I hardly ever got in trouble in Sunday school!)  So, I walked up to Miss Jones, and with my most beaming smile, told her that I thought she looked like a big, giant chicken.  (Hey... I liked chickens!  It was a sincere, heart-felt compliment!)  Miss Jones looked down at me, then suddenly shrieked, burst into tears, and ran from the room.  All the kids - including me - stared after her.  Then all the other kids stared at me.  We all milled about for a while, playing or coloring, when someone came and took me away.  I recall sitting alone in a room, on a little hard, wooden chair, until my uncle came to take me home.  I had an extra long weekend, and on Monday went to another class - and never saw Miss Jones again.  

 

                                                  Image result for calvin wagon

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14 hours ago, Smuteye John SASS#24774 said:

My first grade teacher tried to make me right handed.

My first grade teacher did make me right-handed.  Fast forward:  it took me forever to learn to back up a car, and I still can't put a pair of shoes back in the box.

She also said I had too much name (Bobbie Marie) but that's where Mama drew the line.

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