I never tried to fit in in school, mainly because my mom had asked the principal of the school to get all my peers had to facilitate my social interaction and protect me from bullies.
Needless to say, none of my fellow Grade Oners protected me from Robert McCleod as he dragged me around in the enclosed play area outside the boys' washroom one fine day. Rather, Brian Bolster, the neighbour's kid separated us and told Robert where to go. From what Rob told me, he was being raised by his grandmother because his parents split up.
Today, it just dawned on me exactly why his grandmother was in charge of this young lad: he was probably a victim of child abuse. Hence his extreme form of play using me as a rag doll to drag around.
So, basically, my early years of school were far from average and humdrum. In Grade One, one of my biggest traumas also occurred: after being granted permission to go to the washroom, I ran to the aforementioned washroom only find the heavy oak door impossible for a tiny guy like me to open.
So I pissed the pants, and returned to my Grade One class.
In Grade Two, I got tortured by well-meaning Grade Sixers for resisting "study time". As well, Mrs. Caldwell of the pioneer BC Anglican Caldwell clan was our teacher. And the one time in our seven-old-year boys' life when we had fun sliding down a dirt hill on the west side of Aldergrove Elementary, she ruined by guilting and shaming us for getting dirty.
Then it happened. While Grade Three was dull and sometimes boring, I twigged on this cute girl named Deborah Rexford, of the pioneer Rexford clan of Chilliwack. For once in my eight-year-old life, I could actually have fun with a girl.
But my mom soon put a stop to that because I was turning up late for supper — she grounded me. Then Debbie moved away. Finally, to make matters worse I got teased by a friend for seeing her.
In Grade Four, Ms. Toews made me stay after school to do homework. She also tried to discourage finger counting to do math. With this being the 60s, nobody in education at the universities had passed on the tip that pen and paper is allowed for math quizzes. Instead, teachers used to train us to think on our feet. This was in the days when slide rulers ruled the day.
Grade Five was confusing. I got abused a little by a harsh teacher and then, because Grade Fives were the biggest group of kids that year, got moved to Mr. Green's class. It was here that I condoned corporal punishment of kids with the paddle, and first compared school to prison.
In Grade Six, I got Mrs. Fahrenholtz which turned out to the coolest time of my life, though home life was getting to me because I had a brief hissy fit once and only once. It also marked the first time I acted out in class by going up to the blackboard without being asked to.
Finally Grade Seven happened. Apart from band, it was ok. Perhaps it was the first time I learned that 90% of people don't really understand the 10% of people that I belonged to. I started to my classmates that I certainly didn't want anyone to act like the Minoans, who had this thing where breasts of their women were shown off. I kid you not: Cretans were breast-worshippers. Anyway, this was taken the wrong way, and I think this alienated my classmates throughout high school.
However, I liked how the sunny days of Indian Summer became covered in thick fog. As well, I enjoyed the frogs croaking each night in the summer. Today, it's hard to find a place where frogs do that just to enjoy their freedom in the wild.
Anyway, that is my memory of elementary school.
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