First Grade

First grade was probably the most miserable experience of all of my education. I transferred from a public kindergarten to a Catholic elementary school. To state that St. Scholastica and Sister Virginia were not ready for me was an understatement. Thank goodness my cousin Ron was with me, because he was in the exact same boat. I don't know if public schools worried about class sizes back in the mid-70s, but Catholic schools surely did not. I think there were about 40-some kids in my first grade. Can you even imagine teaching that many squirming 6-year-olds? Ugh. Dermot's class had 24, and that seemed like a lot whenever I was volunteering in his classroom.

My brother had been Sister Virginia's classroom three years before I was, and apparently my parents had a few conversations with her back then, but I don't know the details. All I know is that first grade was worse than kindergarten in terms of curriculum and expectations. We were not expected to read, and my reading had obviously improved over one year of formal schooling. At this age I was going to the public library twice a week because they had a seven book limit. I was reading 14 books a week, and that's not including the books that my parents bought for me, and all of my brother's books that I "borrowed" once he was finished with them.

When I started school, we were put into different reading groups. Because my mom was well-known among the school employees, they did know that I was reading and they didn't put me in the beginner reading groups. I don't know if they tested me or if they just put me in a reading group. I ended up (with my cousin) in the highest level second grade reading group. I don't remember that being a bad fit, but Mrs. Haffner was a great teacher compared to Sister Virginia who could barely spell her own name. Seriously, I don't know how she made it through college. The problem was they wouldn't just let me start at that level. I had to makeup all of the other books. So I had to read five textbooks and do all of the workbooks associated with those textbooks during the beginning of first grade. I was so irritated about having to read the early books. The workbooks were stupid. I am pretty sure that today's educators would do some sort of post-test to make sure I knew the material included. If I passed, then I would be done. Back then, I had to demonstrate that I could do stupid, remedial, rote work, I guess (this will also become a theme as I continue to write).

I don't remember much about learning math in first grade. I think that we were all in one large group, regardless of our abilities. What I do remember about math is that the two brightest kids (my cousin and I) were asked to "tutor" the two weakest students in the hallway during math time. So my poor cousin and I would sit out in the hallway theoretically teaching basic counting and addition to Doug and Kimberly, who probably had learning disabilities. Doug didn't finish high school, and I have no idea what happened to Kimberly. What really happened was that Ron and I either sat in the hallway talking to ourselves while Doug and Kimberly talked to themselves, or even worse, Ron and I made fun of Doug and Kimberly. As an educator I am horrified to admit that, but seriously, what was the teacher thinking? To us 1 + 1 was so obviously 2. We couldn't understand how that wasn't clear to the other two kids. I was still doing workbooks at home, so at least my math education wasn't stunted by learning nothing new in first grade.

The only subject that was new to me in first grade was religion. I was fascinated by religion class because it was the only new information I was presented all day. The funny thing is I think it was just presented to us as stories, and I found the stories interesting. I didn't really like the morality or the rules part, but the Bible stories were interesting. Also, because I was raised Catholic, I was taught that they were stories and/or allegories. They were never presented to me as factual. In fact when I brought up how the Bible was full of stories to my Fundamentalist grandfather he was horrified. Live and learn.

The worst part of first grade was phonics. Now, I'm a big believer in phonics being part of reading education. I was frustrated with Dermot's daycare because they believed a little too strongly in whole language. You clearly need both approaches. I'm old enough that we had a phonics workbook. I remember it to this day. It was green with black plaid on it. The problem was that the workbook was designed for pre-readers. It was probably a great tool for them. I remember things like having multiple pictures of balloons on a page. Each balloon contained a different word. Our task was to color in (with crayon) each balloon that contained a word that contained a K. That is basically teaching the alphabet. Again, as a child who was reading at probably a high school reading level, this was ridiculous. Because it was stupid to me, I went home and completed the entire workbook after the first day of school. My teacher was furious at me. She ended up giving me another, identical workbook so that I could work at the same pace as the other kids. I went home crying after she punished me for doing the work. Five-year-old Lonna thought that I would be praised for knowing all of the information and finishing it so quickly. I knew nothing about pacing, and working as a group. Again, I shouldn't have known that stuff. That was on the teacher, not on me.

Another problem that I had in first grade, which Dermot has also had in kindergarten and in first grade, was the school library. When we would go to the library (which was a trailer outside of the school), my class was only allowed to check out first grade books, which were basically picture books. The first day we went to the library, I immediately went to the sixth grade section (my school was 1-6). I found a bunch of books that I wanted, and I was told there was no way that I could check them out. I told the librarian (Sister Generosa - I'm not making this up) that I could read the sixth grade books. She said that I couldn't. I told her to open one up at random and I would read it to her. She said no. Fortunately, this is one of the few times that my mother did advocate for me. She had a talk with the stubborn nun and I was allowed to check out any books that I wanted. We have had to email Dermot's librarian both years to let him have access to more advanced books too. In fact in kindergarten, they wouldn't let him check out non-fiction books. It was just ridiculous. Dermot didn't like the story books because they were beneath him. He loved, loved, loved reading science books and encyclopedias. Curious George just wasn't cutting it. So after a few emails, they let him and other kids have access to the other books. That's always the concern - what about the other kids? What about them? If they want access to more advanced stuff - good for them. If they can't handle it, that's for you and the teacher to figure out.

In retrospect, I'm not so sure that I shouldn't have been skipped another grade at this point. I went home from school crying almost daily in first grade. This is what I know was going on in little Lonna's head, and what I think is going on in Dermot's head. I was told that school was going to be challenging. School was going to be this wonderful place where I learned all sorts of new things. Basically, school was put on a pedestal for me. My mother was a teacher, and my parents are both first-generation college graduates. They both had to work hard in school. I think that school was that wondrous, beautiful thing for them that they told me it would be. I got to school and all they did was talk about stuff that I had known for a long time. I never got the "good stuff" that I had been promised, and oh, how badly did I want all of that good stuff. When I ask Dermot about school all he says is that it's boring, it's too easy, and that they aren't teaching him anything that he doesn't know. From what I can gather he's not totally wrong. The only thing that I think he has learned is grammar. Now that's important and I certainly would never want to minimize that. I'm thrilled that he's learning the rules of language, not just how to read. In fact his school is so awesome that all kids (his school is K-4) write every single day. He hates it, which means that he's having to work at it. I love that for him. But, because of the type of kid he is, he gets really irritated when books break the grammar rules that he is learning. For example, a lot of children's books start sentences with "and" or "but". Dermot insists that they cannot do that. Again, he's Mr. Black and White.

The other rough part of first grade for me was the social component. I did have friends in first grade, but I was not very well-liked. I was already being made fun of for being fat, which I don't see when I see pictures of me at this age. By fourth grade, those hurtful words were not wrong, but I don't think that was true in first grade. Maybe the kids could sense it was my destiny:) My best friend from my neighborhood was in my classroom and I remember at least one other girl who would play with me. My problem was that I was a total bitch about my abilities. I was a big bragger in first grade. I always knew that I would be the first to complete something. I always knew that I would be the one to not get anything wrong. The problem was that I was dumb enough to tell my classmates that I was smarter than they were. I honestly deserved all that I got in return. My mom tells me that she stayed out of it because she wanted me to learn on my own. I did, but it took two years. I think that things would have been very different for me if someone had mentored me on what it meant to be gifted. This is why I am so sensitive now when it comes to talking about my giftedness and abilities. You all know how mean first graders can be. I remember purposely using words that I knew they didn't know. God, I was just awful to my poor classmates. Thank goodness I had a best friend who lived across the street who was also gifted. He was lucky enough to go to public school, though. My cousin was in my class, but in first grade it's hard to cross the huge gender divide. I, of course, did have some male friends, but they didn't seem to "count" in bigger picture. All that mattered was the girl half of our class, and boy, they didn't like me very much.

The other thing that I remember about first grade was constantly getting in trouble for talking. Again, that never really went away until high school. Whenever I was bored, I would talk. I had no self-control at that age. Again, I shouldn't have had self-control at that age. A good teacher would have realized that I was talking when I was bored. A good teacher would have had extra work or more challenging work for me to work on when I started getting out of control. Dermot's teacher gave him a "challenge folder" full of harder math homework. He still got in trouble for talking, but it was much less often than I got in trouble. I should point out that Dermot's first grade teacher had these folders for all of the students, not just Dermot. It's just that Dermot's work was more advanced and she had to fill his up more often.

This is long enough. I will write about Dermot's first grade experience in its own post. It's so fresh to me, that I am sure that I will have a lot to say. Suffice it to say after writing this, and comparing it to Dermot's experience, he did have a better first grade experience. That's actually good for me to recognize.

P.S. You see all of this detail and all of this emotional intensity in these posts? This is what gifted kids are like. They call it intensity and overexcitability. I see it in myself to this day, and I don't know how to help Dermot cope with it, because I don't think I ever learned how to cope with it. I'll talk more about that later as well.