Teachers and the Golden Years of Childhood

Abstract

T his day had planned like no other! Bright yellow dress, scratchy slip, shiny shoes, ruffled socks, and new underwear coated my fifty-two pounds. had a bright blue lunch box with a real glass thermos. Inside was a waxed-paper-wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bag of chips, and Hostess cupcakes. My executive-looking canvas bookbag was slung over my right arm. Buckled up inside it were several pencils (No. 2s and the presharpened colored kind), an arsenal of assorted erasers (would make that many mistakes?), Crayola crayons (twenty-four standing at attention), and a Big Chief tablet (double thickness variety). walked into my classroom ready for the serious stuff of first grade. stood my teacher, Mrs. Wolf. She had wavy red hair, pretty fingernails, and a velvet voice. She was so looking forward to my being in her classroom! There is a cloakroom for your things. Take any seat you wish. Have a cookie and some milk. Get acquainted with your new classmates. Oh boy! First grade! couldn't wait! Elaine Wolf made this year of grade one like heaven. were but rules in our classroom. The first: You have a right to make a mistake and the responsibility to correct that mistake. And second: No one in this room may hurt another person's feelings or body. Mrs. Wolf cared that we make productive use of our time. If a student correctly completed a sample of ten addition problems, that student was free to tackle more challenging material. When it was time for reading, my classmates and read. Some of us read several stories ahead in our textbook. Mrs. Wolf made no comment, for curiosity, motivation, and initiative were prized behaviors. We read aloud passages from our reading book or a book of our choice. Mrs. Wolf explained that these passages might be rehearsed and read to a friend, to a parent, or to her. The point was to practice. Become a good reader. We spent more time reading than doing worksheets. When it came time to correct our papers, our teacher gave us answer keys so that we could check our own work, receive immediate feedback, learn from our mistakes, and keep track of our own progress in individual folders kept in the privacy of our own desks. If we were stumped by a math problem or a new vocabulary word, Mrs. Wolf encouraged us to ask our neighbor. After all, two heads are better than one, and we're all in this together. Our classroom was a community of learners-each one of us supporting the other. Elaine Wolf knew each child's strengths and weaknesses; she knew us as Martha with a cat named Lucky and Jerry the sensitive artist-not as I.Q.s or grade-equivalent test scores. We adored Elaine Wolf. My friend Pam attended first grade in the same school, at the same time that did. She prepared for that most important year with the same level of enthusiasm and attention to detail. Her teacher's name was Doris Wilson. Mrs. Wilson's classroom was next to ours but structured entirely differently. Unlike our setup, there were twenty classroom rules to be memorized, each with its own penalty for infractions. were not allowed to use the restroom without permission, and Mrs. Wilson was the only one who checked papers or responded to students' questions. I don't let them go until see their eyeballs float. Kids can't check their own papers-they'll cheat! I'm your teacher and know the answers. If one of Mrs. Wilson's students read ahead, he or she was promptly instructed to copy the story five times. And helping one another was out of the question. On one afternoon, missed my friend Pam at our usual swinging and sliding place on the playground. After school we walked home together, and found out what she'd been up to. I don't know why she's so mean. All did was help Brad finish his math work. He didn't understand it, and he's been staying inside for reMary K. Lose is an assistant professor of education at Simpson College, Indianola, Iowa.