Smart and good, stupid and bad I Bashny.Net

I went to kindergarten in five years and two months, eight months after my father's death.

My teacher was miss Nironovich. She was amazing, delicious smell. She was young and pretty and with a high bouffant of blond hair, wore short skirts of bright colors and had a very friendly smile and the warmest eyes you could imagine. I loved her from our very first meeting, when mum took me to her class so we met, and miss Nironovich showed me the situation.





Mother recently began again and have stopped wearing all weekend long your dressing gown. I well remember how she taught me how to say "miss Not-ro-no-HIV" before this special meeting and told what a wonderful woman and how lucky I am that I will fall into a special class that will become my school family.

Was 1973, and our local school decided to try a new-fangled type class "family group". Mom said that miss Nironovich wanted to meet me.

In the class were students of all ages, from preschoolers to third graders, we were sitting at their desks together, and us kids, if necessary, could ask older children for help. We were able to choose their own classes, to walk freely around the class from one area to another. And when we failed, or, conversely, finish the job, then went to tell miss Nironovich, and she discussed everything with us alone, explained what we didn't know or helped with something difficult.

Still, close my eyes, I can easily remember how he pressed himself against her, while my notebook lay in her lap. She had her arm around me, and our heads with straw-coloured hair together had leaned over my figure, yet it is beautifully signed his story I dictated.

The most difficult in my first day of school was a terrible event called "change." I well remember the panic I felt when we were taken outside without a miss Nironovich.

Fortunately, I was alone quite a while, I came to the aid of Mr. Graal. He was a Director and during the breaks walked around the school yard. My first day at school he saw me and extended his hand to me so we walked together. I don't remember what we talked about if he was telling me something, but I always took a video while walking his big warm hand holding mine. I do not remember that he sent me to play with other kids or asked not to interfere, because he's busy or because someone else wanted to talk to him. In my memory remains only that we walk together every day, and I was under his protection. The zero class was like a dream – a beautiful dream.

In first grade it was the same thanks to the "family group." I stayed with miss Nironovich, only now for a full day, so I turned to walk with Mr. Graylon still at lunch.

Now to me the most was to help preschool children who were a little frightened and didn't always understand what to do. After a while I even began to occasionally play in the schoolyard because the older children taught me to jump hopscotch, jumping rope and weave "cradles for a cat". I remember as a third grader Irene forbid one little boy to tease me for small ears. Irene told me to call her every time, if the boy will again begin to tease, and then she will lead an adult.

At the meeting in the end of the year Mr. Graell announced that is retiring, and spoke about what he would miss when parting with our elementary school John Norquay. Including "daily walks with little Pammy". I knew I was special to him and that he will remember me.

My report cards for a zero and first class were great. I was smart and good decoration of any class.

The second class we moved into a "nicer neighborhood", from East Vancouver to Kerrisdale.





My new school was called "better school". My mom was so happy to move my little family (my sister and me) away from the place of deep sorrow and rejoiced that she could give us something "better" than the little pink house on 29th street.

The new school was the usual, not inclined to new-fangled ideas, such as "family groups". It seems nobody understood that I came home from school with an unusual approach and did not know the rules of "normal" class. Of course, no one told me that there expected another.

• I didn't know that children not to talk with each other;
• I didn't know that you can't ask a neighbor for help – this was the response;
• I didn't know that you need to raise your hand and ask permission if I need to get up for a tissue;
• I didn't know that you can't just get up and go to the window to watch the Robins on the grass
• or to approach the teacher to show their work to say your opinion or helped me.

 

I didn't know.

I also knew nothing about mathematics. In our system, "family groups" children had to learn a set of specific abilities by the end of third grade. We needed to perform at least two tasks on each site per day, then we could do anything in the most interesting section.

I loved to read, write and make music, and I was attracted to the changing rooms and Playground with large modules, so I often spent my time there.

I have made good progress in reading and writing, but in mathematics was while on stage with the counting material. I knew how to count to 20; could solve all geometric puzzle; to sort the beads according to their signs and put them in a certain order; I know how to sort the counting sticks of Kusinara in length, and this is where my mathematical knowledge ends.

At my old school this one did not care, because it was thought that I had left there are still two years to "catch up". I had no idea that learning can be "left behind."

My teacher in second grade (I don't even want to write her name) in the first day of school, it seemed to me, wanted only one thing: to catch me. She stood in front of the class and talked to us at the same time, listing the tasks on the Board. I was able to read, but what she wrote was some nonsense: it seemed like a trap. She wrote a string of numbers like this:

4+6=
3+2=
1+1=
8+5=

And then asked us what would be the answers. I knew the numbers, but what kind of strange signs? I knew it was some kind of code – numbers interacted with each other in a certain way, but I couldn't unravel the logic.

After a few minutes I guessed that the other children knew the code. And I remember my head was covered by a panic, when realized that I just don't know what to do, and to ask for help is impossible – then I have buzzing in my ears, and my eyes had ceased to perceive what is seen.

When I was called, I tried to guess the first that came to my mind, but never got.

It was enough just a couple hours that I realized how stupid I am, and just a couple of days to realize how bad I am.

Due to the fact that I was so bad and stupid, my teacher didn't like me. I always got in trouble because I didn't follow the rules – I tried to guess, but who could know that you need to ask permission to read a book from the library or sharpen your pencil for the job?

I hated these lessons. I was in a special group in reading (and thought she was for such a stupid and bad, but looking back, I understand that there was selected only well-read children), and we could go in a separate class two or three times a week. The road there passed through the library. Once we returned to the General class, and I felt worse and worse thinking that it would have to be around this "teacher".

I was at the end of the group, and when we walked through the library and suddenly realized that hiding, crouching behind the bookshelves, while everyone else is gone. My heart was pounding, but before my eyes I found an interesting book. It was a book about children who found a secret world. I stayed in the library and read it before lunch, and that nobody even noticed, so I didn't have to deal with my picky teacher.

I know it's wrong, I'm not allowed, but I couldn't resist. A few days later I did it again, now deliberately. Unfortunately, someone came and found me, and then I got for cheating and skipping class.

In the school yard no one could take care of me, and all the little girls became friends with each other for the past two years. There was another new girl named Julie. She talked funny, because I came from Australia, and it was bad. Julie was constantly getting in trouble, and she was even sent to talk to the Director. She offered me to make friends, and I said Yes, but tried to make friends with good girls too. Over lunch they told me I need to choose between them and Julie, but Julie was already my friend, so I had to choose it not to act meanly.





One day Julie said, "Let's dance on the grass!" Before school there was a Playground with grass where we weren't allowed to run, it was grass for beauty, but not for games. I knew it and reminded Julie that we can't do that, but she said that if I'm her real friend, then I'll go with her, and I wanted to be a good friend, so I agreed.

We danced on the grass, and we had lots of fun, and when Julie lifted up her skirt to dance, I did exactly the same. For this we were sent to the Director. My mother at that time was engaged and was preparing for the upcoming a few months the wedding. The Director told me that I would disappoint my mother and ruin her wedding happiness, if she finds out I did so this time, Director don't tell her, but if I arrange something like that, she'll let mom know. At the time, I had to keep this heavy secret from her mother.

My report card for the second class, far from the splendor.

That summer my mom got married and we moved into a large pretentious house, and I had to go to another school. Come third grade, and I met with Mrs. tiller. She was VERY strict and did not allow any ugliness.And she loved me. Fell in love with me immediately. I guessed that by the twinkle in her eyes when she met me at the door and escorted to class.

In the first week she gave us a math test, multiplied by mimeograph. By the end of second grade I finally realized, what is the meaning of plus and minus, but I've never seen the division sign. Children at the new school has studied the division in the second grade, but at my old school, we are not yet started. So when I got the clue card to the division, I thought that these little dots are likely typos mimeograph, and had solved all the problems as if they were subtraction.

Later that day, Mrs tiller went to my Desk, leaned over and whispered to me not heard anyone else: "I think you haven't passed the division, but don't worry, I'll explain. It's very simple, and you'll understand." Because of this, I knew that the teacher would help me and I have nothing to fear.

Mrs. tiller allowed me to read when I was finished, and recommended new books that I might like.





Once my cat followed me to school, and I was afraid to go to class because I thought that if the cat gets lost, she gets hit by a car. One student told Mrs. tiller about this issue, and she got out, took the cat, made it to the class and told everyone that this morning we will have a special guest. And during lunch, she took our cat home.

I was lucky to be in the third grade Mrs. tiller, to stay in the same school and to get back to her in the fourth grade, despite the fact that a new marriage to my mother failed – followed by a divorce and we moved to the townhouse.

My report cards for 3rd and 4th grade saying I was smart and good.

The summer before fifth grade, we moved to Richmond, and again I changed school, but I will finish the story. Will add only that at the end of fourth grade, Mrs. tiller, knowing that I'm leaving, gave me his home phone number and said she would be happy from time to time to see how I was doing. Mum bought me my own phone book, so I can write the number of the teacher in their secret, special place.

 

Also interesting: Mikhail Kazinik: to Take the children's childhood, to tell them a bunch of information — it is criminal

What to do if the teacher has

 

And I did call Mrs. tiller, first every couple of months, then every year or two, and then for big reasons such as marriage and birth of my children.

As a child I was stupid and bad; I was smart and good. So I saw my teachers.published

 

Author: Pamela white, translation Irina Matsenko



Source: alpha-parenting.ru/2016/10/31/umnaya-i-horoshaya-glupaya-i-plohaya-ya/