Chapter 2: The trouble with teachers part 1
January 29th 2007 17:25
The trouble with teachers is they either feel so sorry for you they single you out giving you extra praise for the same work the other students are doing or they are so mean it makes you force yourself to puke every morning so you don’t have to go to school. In grade school I ran into both kinds which made my learning anything even more difficult than it had to be.
I hated 1st grade. The principal, Mr. Gribling, and my teacher, Mrs. Hanshaw were sure I did not belong in a mainstream class because I was physically behind the other kids in height and coordination. Plus I had some learning disabilities from the coma I was in when I was a baby. I had to work extra hard to keep up with other kids my age. They did not think this was fair to me. My mom disagreed strongly. She knew I would always have to work harder than most to keep up in the world. No easy way out for me. But sometimes I think, what would have become of me if I was allowed to not work so hard for everything...
Mrs. Hanshaw did not feel she had any time to give me more than other students. She really didn’t want to deal with me at all. If I didn’t finish me work, it was an F. If I didn’t finish a test, the points were taken off for each question I didn’t finish along with whatever I got wrong. She would bring to the attention of other students that no one could go to recess until I finished my work. The students I knew from kindergarden tried to work slower so it didn’t look like I was so behind. Others were quite upset with me. It was my falt when the class didn’t get a full recess.
I was no longer wearing diapers at school, but when I had to go to the restroom it was something I had to do asap or I would wet my pants. In Kindergarden I was allowed to go as soon as I had to. Not in 1st grade. I had to raise my hand and sometimes Mrs Hanshaw would ignore me because she was working with another student. I wet myself a few times. The students that didn’t know better started making fun of me.
I started throwing up before to get out of going. Or if I was having a particularly rough day I would throw up at school. Then I would get to go home. My mom usually didn’t let me stay home. I had thrown up after eating most of my life. It was no real excuse. She knew there had to be a problem. She went to the school for another meeting with the teacher and principal. I had to do more homework because I was allowed to take home asignments I didn’t finish in class. I was still getting Cs or Ds sometimes Fs on timed tests and regular in class tests, but I worked hard and did as much extra credit as I could to pass. I also still tried to get sick before school and at school, but most of the time my mom knew I was faking.
I hated 1st grade. The principal, Mr. Gribling, and my teacher, Mrs. Hanshaw were sure I did not belong in a mainstream class because I was physically behind the other kids in height and coordination. Plus I had some learning disabilities from the coma I was in when I was a baby. I had to work extra hard to keep up with other kids my age. They did not think this was fair to me. My mom disagreed strongly. She knew I would always have to work harder than most to keep up in the world. No easy way out for me. But sometimes I think, what would have become of me if I was allowed to not work so hard for everything...
Mrs. Hanshaw did not feel she had any time to give me more than other students. She really didn’t want to deal with me at all. If I didn’t finish me work, it was an F. If I didn’t finish a test, the points were taken off for each question I didn’t finish along with whatever I got wrong. She would bring to the attention of other students that no one could go to recess until I finished my work. The students I knew from kindergarden tried to work slower so it didn’t look like I was so behind. Others were quite upset with me. It was my falt when the class didn’t get a full recess.
I was no longer wearing diapers at school, but when I had to go to the restroom it was something I had to do asap or I would wet my pants. In Kindergarden I was allowed to go as soon as I had to. Not in 1st grade. I had to raise my hand and sometimes Mrs Hanshaw would ignore me because she was working with another student. I wet myself a few times. The students that didn’t know better started making fun of me.
I started throwing up before to get out of going. Or if I was having a particularly rough day I would throw up at school. Then I would get to go home. My mom usually didn’t let me stay home. I had thrown up after eating most of my life. It was no real excuse. She knew there had to be a problem. She went to the school for another meeting with the teacher and principal. I had to do more homework because I was allowed to take home asignments I didn’t finish in class. I was still getting Cs or Ds sometimes Fs on timed tests and regular in class tests, but I worked hard and did as much extra credit as I could to pass. I also still tried to get sick before school and at school, but most of the time my mom knew I was faking.
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