Life on the 1st Grade playground is brutal these days. Tattling, fights, and a bloody nose tell me everyone has settled into life at our little school. We are now a family. I just didn’t expect the bloody nose to belong to the sweetest little girl in my class. Life is different than it was in 1961, when I was in 1st Grade. Even the boys didn’t fight until we were all much older.
How so much drama unfolds on bright and sunny fall days in the middle of the desert is a puzzlement. Working on math after lunch, the class seemed to be attentive and alert. We’d found a few extra balls in the morning and were all looking forward to the fresh air and a few minutes to run off steam. We all love recess. It could be my favorite subject now. 1st Graders are teaching many lessons. one being the value of a brain break.
There’s a most special teacher at school. I’ve named her Louise. She got that name because when we are together, I’m definitely her Thelma. For my young and tender readers that don’t immediately have an image of two women seated in a convertible flying off the road into the airspace above a very deep canyon, please watch the movie. I’m sure my friend and I often trade parts. We drove off that cliff when we came out of retirement to help a desert school district that needed teachers so badly. We are still in free fall. The principal refers to us as the “Laughing Ladies Down The Hall”.
Louise and I were basking in the sunshine rather marmot-like when a frantic child ran up to get our help.
“Fight! Fight! Fight!”
It seemed a handful of children representing all five classes had collected out of the view of teachers at a place OFF LIMITS to all. One of my most trusted students was there, front and center. Unusual, out of character, and most definitely unacceptable.
There were four girls in a line and backed into a corner. A group of boys were going to fight them. Why? Who knows what lurks in the heads of children. These were all good kids that were not the usual suspects. I doubt they knew the first thing about fighting.
Assessing the actual damage, I asked if anyone was hit.
“No!” They all answered in unison.
Another strange thing about 1st graders is that they often have different perceptions about life and the meaning of English words. A fight usually involves someone striking another. In this case, no contact was made.
“They WERE going to fight us,” offered my little Eaglet (our mascot is the eagle).
All these children looked quite startled and now terrified that Thelma and Louise had arrived on the scene. Everyone denied everything. Ten littles all telling their side of the story while trying to avoid the hot water in which they found themselves.
Louise and I gave them the EYE, told them not to play in the area OFF LIMITS to all, and sent them on their way. We thought it was the end.
Before long, a little and her friend, both my students (again, great kids) came for immediate help. My little had a bloody nose. My little looking so cute in her adorable pink dress and hair bow.
“He hit me. He hit me.”
“Oy vey … What a Curse! Blood and bumps? Off to the nurse.”
I let them in through an exterior door that wasn’t even looked properly as all exterior doors must be at all times. The unlocked door was almost more disturbing than the girl with the bloody nose. Every exterior door in our building is locked at all times while children are present. Sadly, it’s the times in which we live.
With two minutes left in the recess, Louise and I were left to deal with a little boy that was now a solid ball of “I didn’t do it and there’s nothing you can do to make me say I did.” Sad but true, he was turned over to the authorities. He returned to class with a snack and a pat on the head. Oh, the drama of it all.
The rest of the day was full of work. I made it so. The more little minds have to learn, the less time they have to think about upcoming episodes of 1st Grade Fight Club – Part 2. Today is a new morning with new drama, yet to unfold.
I love having Louise on my side. Between us, we’ve seen 57 years of classroom antics. There isn’t anything that we haven’t seen at least one hundred times before. We both agree, this situation was a new one for both of us. Gone are the days of tissue butterflies and watercolor rainbows. Replacing them are one hour a day of computer time and hours of work. Gone are the days when being sent to the office was something to be avoided at all costs. Now, it involves a snack. The 1900’s were a magical place to live, eh?
This weekend, the Mysterious Marine and I will be spending quality time together. Shopping, eating, gardening, and home maintenance. Thank goodness he’s steady on a ladder because my light bulbs need changing. After five weeks, we are settling into the best kind of friendship. An easy one that doesn’t include drama or the need for extra stress. Just neighbors that always have an extra cup of sugar to share. Oliver and his new girlfriend pine for each other when apart. As our new pack forms, the leaves are turning golden. The weekend is primed for fun and happiness. With winter just around the corner, we’re settling in to the best season of all.
With that being said, I need the weekend to sleep in, eat too much, and enjoy life. I will be back on Monday with new stories about my dusty little life at the wide spot in the road off the interstate on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada. It just doesn’t get better than that.
Until Monday…