Saturday, November 22, 2014
Third grade is real life
It sometimes freaks me out that he is in third grade. I mean, you guys, I remember third grade.
I don't remember much about school before that year, only a couple of snap shots. I remember how it felt to read I See Sam books in kindergarten-- the first word I figured out totally on my own was mouse, and then I could get house, and the whole world just opened right up right there at my desk. I remember playing around the world with math facts in first grade and distinctly enjoying how it self to kick someone's ass in a competition. I remember reading Dear Mr. Henshaw out loud to the fourth graders when I was in first grade, too-- I really liked reading to them, but I think they thought I was weird. In second grade, I read Are You There God, It's Me, Margaret, and I was so engrossed in the book that I did not know the whole class had left the room to go to music. Oops.
But third grade-- I remember it all. Mrs. Piper had us keep a tiny notebook with a new vocabulary word everyday, and she would give each kid one M&M when she introduced the new word. We had to come up with a sentence that used the words, and we would write that sentence in our notebooks. I wrote "The rock is unique," and she told me you couldn't really call a rock unique, and to this day, I think WTF, lady? We learned how to write in cursive, and I could NOT figure out how to make a cursive "r." We were practicing at our desks, and I remember thinking oh god please don;t let her pick me to write the letter on the board, and she did! She did pick me, and I was super embarrassed because my "r" totally sucked. I wrote my first report in that class, on orangutans, researched using my family's living-room set of World Book encyclopedias and illustrated with my Crayola markers. For my gifted and talented class, I wrote a paper comparing West Side Story to Romeo and Juliet, and I made a killer diorama with a Ken and a gawky off-brand Barbie to represent a scene from Mr. Popper's Penguins. In Mrs. Piper's class, we played board games during indoor recess, and we memorized Shel Silverstein poetry to recite to the class-- I still know a few by heart 28 years later. I read 2 books-of-a-lifetime during silent reading time: Roll of Thunder Hear my Cry and Where the Red Fern Grows, and my best friend from third grade was my matron of honor.
Third grade was real, and I wonder what he is going to remember.