I forget a lot of things, but I can’t forget my elementary school bus driver. Every morning, he would greet us with a smile. He had the best taste in music and when he would drop us off, he always said, “See you later, alligator!” No idea what his name was. Never thought to ask. I couldn’t have been more than 5 or 6 years old, but I’ll always remember that bus driver. The peace I felt on that bus was truly divine.

1. I served two 4 year terms as an elected official in k-12 public in my area, Eight years fighting for kiddos and young adults who were never endingly treated like trash, and the ‘premium’ district’s staff were / are 65% shite.

Memories from education that stayed with me

1st grade teacher was my first crush, I really loved her dearly.

4th grade teacher hated me and I had asked 4x to go to the nurse as I was not feeling well she said no and told me to stop trying to get out of long division, so I puked on her desk.

8th grade my gym teacher called me a bitch so I smacked his ass as hard as I could with a tennis racket thing and called him a unic for hitting a girl because she was better at sports than him on coke. (he refused to retell the story so I did not get school punishment) For the next few weeks I did everything I could to show him up until the end of the semester.

10th grade I was accused of putting ‘poppers’ in all the pencil sharpeners in classrooms. I never admitted it, but I spared one teacher who I really liked. He thanked me and all I did was nod. He never ratted me out.

12th grade a teacher hated me so much she attempted to make it so I could not ‘walk’ at graduation... she tried a few times to call my mom who would always say ‘8 to 3’ don’t you get paid to do a job? She (in front of the class) got very mad at me for explaining to her that how she was explaining what an ROI on a small start up would look like and that she should not dumb it down, we were an accelerated class weeks from being adults free to fight wars, make more humans, and be jailed as adults--- to which she lost her temper and said “It is clear your mother has no relationship to you, what is your fathers number, one of your parents need know why at graduation you will be standing in the parking lot”. I smiled... looked her in her baby-sitter book club looking face and said in truth, he died last semester- surly you noticed my absence?. As I watched her face change to something she was seemingly uncomfortable with, I slowly rose to my feet and hand on my heart began singing ‘Oh Danny Boy’ loud and slowly until she left the room.

I would go on... because as the years went by my life was CHANGED by educators through 12 years of college in ways my kids will pass to theirs and so on and so on.

I regret nothing typed here

It was quite simple, really

A little tactic and a littler action

He stood so confident to sharpen his pencil

While meanwhile I eyed his blue chair

The one he had left so surely

And even sooner he returned

Pencil sharpened, laughter in his eyes

But then he so confidently made to sit down

Which is when I put my hands on that blue chair

And pulled it out swiftly to watch him fall

Perhaps it was the redness of his face

Or the unfiltered laughter from the class

But I knew no longer could he mess with me

For I finally took down him who took down me

It was quite simple, really

An excerpt from this ~

https://hederareads.com/2020/06/08/discoverydraft/

-----

"My favorite subject was Arithmetic; by George, I only went to school for about seven or eight years."

^ --> I delivered these words, some paraphrased by someone, sometime, somewhere, bestowed to me for memorizing; I, alongside all the other second-graders at my elementary school took the state as George Washington. Oh, yes: each and every one of us eight-year-olds in construction-paper powdered-wigs.

I was bad at math as a kid.

Couldn't ever remember six-times-seven.

But for a few moments,

I was a Founding Father,

and I could be counted on

to deliver his words well.

What a swell lesson (however weird) that I reflect on often.

~ Just prosing to warmup & make connections today [posted 2021-05-03]

-----

@bykaileyann

HEDERAREADS.COM

If you don't mind, here are three of my favorite memories from school. These three memories all happened in the year 2020, right before the COVID-19 pandemic shut down schools. All of these were sourced from my diary, which I named after the one who gave it to me, Marie. Also, more context is provided through the words inside the parenthesis.

23 January 2020

Dear Marie,

Hello! Today was yet another normal day at school. But today, I saw Ma'am Herminigilda Salac, my Math teacher last year (she had already retired). Also, Ma'am Salac's students came during that time, and it caused reunions from Diamon, Emerald, and Ruby (Grade 7 sections) last year. Badminton classes also went great, and I went into the advanced group. Well, I also planned my toy car for tomorrow. Good night, and see you tomorrow!

Best Wishes,

Mikko

03 March 2020

Dear Marie,

Hi! Today was yet another day at school. Well, the Math LT (Long Test) was fair enough, and the ValEd (Values Education) quiz bee was great, I almost got the title of Master of Dating. Also, the Filipino LT went very well, and our group finished the game first. At home, I did some laptop work, where me and my partner start revising our SocSci (Social Sciences) project and also, I devised a good plan for April Fool's Day.

Best Wishes,

Mikko

P.S. The Filipino LT went very well, and our group still had 6 minutes after completing the game. Also, I made the final move. (We were studying one of my favorite books back then, and the LT, which was made into a game, proved my knowledge about that book)

09 March 2020

Dear Marie,

Hello! Today was yet another day at school, where there was quite a nice atmosphere. However, at the first break, there was a confirmed case of the COVID-19 in Quezon City (the place where the school was), which eventually led to a suspension of classes. But right before I went to the drop-off area, me and my partner still made the AdTech (Art, Design, and Technology) project, and it had already passed the 3-tile test (The project was a toy car, and it took us a long time to move 3 tiles)! Well, I did some laptop work at home, where I continued my blog. Goodnight, and see you tomorrow!

Best Wishes,

Mikko

Who knew that March 9, 2020 is the last day of face-to-face classes in our school? Until then, me, my classmates, and my friends haven't stepped foot at the campus.

I was in 7th grade Math class back in 1993, and I hated Math with a passion (Ironically, I enjoying teaching it to my Pre-K students). My Math teacher not only made a difficult subject manageable, but he had a wicked sense of humor that made his class so much fun. I remember one day that he was drawing a image for the overhead projector (anyone else remember those?), and I believe it was Ms. Pac-Man with teeth. The teacher said she had teeth because she is evil, and she is evil because she is a woman. The girls in the class were getting fired up, while the boys (including me) were laughing. The teacher then said that men like hanging out with women, and that makes men stupid. The girls then relaxed, content with being evil over being stupid. I laughed to myself, knowing that our teacher had gotten us good. A lesson like this would never fly in school today - the 90s were just a unique time that I fondly reflect on often....

School was always odd for me. I was ofteoften absent - often I’d already learned the things we were talking about, or whatever I was thinking about seemed more important. I performed well enough, but proving what I knew by engaging always seemed pointless in comparison to thinking up something new. When I did attend, I kept myself entirely detached, a distant cloud rarely brushing foglike against the hard boundaries of the earth.

Perhaps I remember how I felt about the moments that changed who I was better than the events themselves because of how detached I was. I don’t remember most of those moments now, buried under time and other memories, of course. But the feelings - I remember swelling anger, embarrasment, eagerness, and rarely, a sense of comfort and home. However, most of the strange moments from my schooling and childhood are things I only know of in stories I learned from the adults around me - mostly detailing the ways I inconvenienced them. What I really remember now are the little things worn into me by years of exposure.

I remember the texture of cinderblock walls, painted white in so many layers it exaggerates the unevenness even as it smooths it over: the perfectly smooth lines where I’d run my finger along the grout. I remember wishing it had more colours, and imagining I was drawing out some plant or beast or scene sketched out by rough, cubist lines.

I remember the river we dug, in the dirt beneath one of the soccer goal posts - I could probably draw its rough shape even now, 15 years hence, if asked. We planned it out - dams and tools and tunnels to hide it so no adult would see it to fill it in. We got in trouble for it constantly - “No digging! Fill it back in!” But the rain would wash the loose dirt out for us, anyways, and after I’d outgrown it and other first graders had taken over down the years, I heard the administrators gave in and bought shovels. I was always happy about that.

In every little memory, though, I remember my school buildings empty - I was so detached from the actions of the teachers and other students that in my memory I see through them, watching the buildings and the fields weather and change slightly over the years of different uses and short term projects - a garden put in in grade three, overrun by mint 2 years later, a leak in the roof slowly making its way towards the boy’s bathroom window. A tree limb bending and cracking slowly for months before the arborist is called to prune it. It’s slow, but you can see it all if you sit still enough.

I wish I’d known how to move when I realized the weathering was happening to me, too.