Dick and Jane

Were not much fun

All they could do

Was walk, talk and run.

Their life

seemed so pale

against the broad stroke

brushings

of desert skies

that fueled

my dreams.

While my second first grade experience ended much better than my first, I don’t remember being all that happy. Perhaps by being somewhat closed to the outside world for a time, I had internalized adult speech patterns in my thoughts and therefore was so disappointed in beginning to learn to read. I remember the Dick, Jane, Sally and Spot books and how stilted the sentences seemed. Because of my stuttering, at first my teacher didn’t know if I couldn’t read or just couldn’t speak well or fluidly.  Also, none of the pictures were remotely connected to how I lived as everyone seemed so happy and lively (See Sally play with Spot.). Also,  the inside of homes and the clothes worn by the family members were not images that resonated with my life.

The way classrooms were organized in the 1960’s, you couldn’t talk unless you raised your hand and were called on, and you needed to concentrate on either a book, or worksheet when the teacher was leading a reading group. . One time I remember coloring a horse purple for some reason and getting my hand rapped with a ruler. Another aspect to school was that other children didn’t seem to like me, or at least I don’t remember playing at recess with anyone in particular, or having any friend. I suspect that my social skills were somewhat lacking and combined with stuttering, I wasn’t the easiest child to get to know. No children came home with me to play and I didn’t spend time at other classmate’s houses.

I couldn’t really figure out why I felt alone and sad and I didn’t know what to do about it.  I have a school picture of me at seven years old and anyone can see in that picture that I am trying hard not to cry.

The next post is an incident that happened in second grade that opened me to the  social consciousness of being poor.

 

SaceanCarol