Another gorgeous sunrise in the countryside. We are having beautiful autumn weather and about time too. It’s been years since we had a genuine fall that lasts more than a week or two. In Ontario the fall can last well into November but that has seldom happened here. It did though back in 1999 when I was back in school doing upgraded computer skills. During the lunch break I would go for walks down in the park and enjoy the crunch of leaves as I walked around the circle path getting all the fresh air and sunshine you are supposed to get to stay healthy. The air is still warm this morning, no frost overnight.
Oh my but autumn always brings back school days to me. I was one of those rare kids who actually liked school. Of course I loved the summer holidays but I enjoyed going to school too even though I often had butterflies in my stomach on the first day of school, wondering what kind of teacher I would have. Lucky for me I always had a nice teacher at last after grade 2. My grade 2 teacher was a real horror, very mean to me. I endured the humiliation of being spanked in front of the whole class (yes over her knee) I got spanked for listening. Yep, while the girl who did the talking didn’t get spanked at all. I never spoke in class again until grade 12 biology. When I answered questions the teacher had to ask me to “speak up” I was so quiet. My next 2 siblings were as quiet as me. Then along came Peter, my father’s child. My mother, who was herself a quiet woman, spoke up when Peter’s teacher asked her to make him be quiet.
“I’ve had the teachers of my three older ones tell me to have them speak up and when I finally have one that talks I will not tell him to be quiet. No.” I’m afraid Peter’s teacher didn’t like my mother much but by this time she was a seasoned parent and had had enough of unfairness with her kids. We never lied to our parents and Mom had gotten the story of peter’s little scuffle out of him before going to the interview so she stymied the teacher by asking her “did you ask the boys why they were fighting?” The teacher had to admit that she had not.
“Well I did ask my son he the other boy had stomped on his lunch bag, that’s why he was fighting with him. If it had been me, I would have put up a fight too.”
The teacher proceeded to discuss Peter’s marks. My mother asked, “and what is this mark?” Of course my mother knew what it was.
“That’s the class average.”
“That’s your mark, isn’t it? It isn’t much higher than Peter’s.”
The teacher was flummoxed and didn’t say any more. Mom walked out of the interview in triumph. Naturally Peter never knew the story until years later. It wouldn’t do for him to know that his mother had bested the teacher in his defence. But after that Peter was treated fairly.
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