</Today, my parents went back to school… or work. My dad's a high school business teacher/DECA advisor/Vocational Director/high school girls' basketball coach (thought I would throw that in there, despite the fact that it is not basketball season yet). My mom's a elementary school paraprofessional – she helps kids with their reading skills.
I had a great time in elementary school… once second grade began. First grade was such a confusing time, and it was compounded by the fact that my teacher, Mrs. Hall, did not get me at all. I remember her as unsympathetic. I honestly don't remember her ever smiling. If she did, it wasn't at me. I remember wetting my pants more than once because I was too afraid of her to ask if I could go to the bathroom. On those days, I went home in pants (mostly sweatpants) that weren't my own. I remember the girl who I considered to be my best friend. Her name was Michelle, and she was in a wheelchair and couldn't talk. But man, could she smile! We rode the bus together. She was picked up after me, and I remember her being strapped in tight so that her wheelchair wouldn't roll around the bus. She always, always, always smiled when she saw me. It made my 7-year-old heart sing to see her smiling like that.
I remember one spring day, the school was allowed to eat our lunches outside. I was stuck on a blanket with Mrs. Hall (joy!), Michelle, and Michelle's aide. At one point, I looked up at Michelle, who was smiling, of course. I smiled back at her, and Mrs. Hall saw me. "Don't laugh with your mouth full," she snapped. I couldn’t believe my ears. I wasn't laughing, only smiling, and my teeth were closed around my food. Didn't Mrs. Hall know the difference between smiling and laughing? I shot her a confused look, and continued smiling at Michelle. Mrs. Hall's hand shot out and snatched away my lunch. I was so shocked that I burst into tears.
In second grade, I had a lovely teacher named Mrs. Diane. My parents packed up me and my brothers and moved into my maternal grandparents' house, as my dad was going back to school to get his teaching certificate. Poor Dad. I cried every Sunday when he kissed me goodnight, knowing I wouldn't see him until Friday. I had more friends at school that year. I remember two girls named Theresa and Laura, and a boy named Jeffrey. There was another girl named Melissa, and I think she was autistic. I don't remember her talking ever, just grunting. One day at recess, she wanted me to play with her and only her. I said no. I wanted to play with Theresa, Laura and Jeffrey too. She got mad and huffed off, and I looked at my other friends, as if to say, "Now what do I do?" I remember chasing after Melissa, but every time I got near her, she would walk away. Fine, I finally thought. Be like that.
Once, it was my turn to feed the class fish, and I accidentally gave them too much, and they died. That was humiliating, but Mrs. Diane was as kind as ever, saying it was okay. It was bound to happen in a class full of eight-year-olds, right? One day, in the spring, I was sitting at my desk working on a worksheet or something, and I started scratching my back. Mrs. Diane noticed, and called me up to her desk. I went, not knowing what to expect. She scratched my back for a minute, and then lifted up my shirt. She picked up the class phone and called the front office, telling them that she was sending me down and I needed to go home. I was bewildered. I needed to go home because I had an itch? But it was chicken pox. Mrs. Diane knew what she was doing.
At the end of the school year, I knew we were moving to Cashmere because my dad had gotten a job as a high school teacher. We celebrated my sister's first birthday party in our new house, and then I started third grade. I was lucky, because I was going to have the same teacher for both 3rd and 4th grade. Mrs. Gix was just as wonderful as Mrs. Diane. She could play the guitar and sing too, and we often had impromptu music sessions in our classroom. We sang "You are My Sunshine" and "Skinna Marinky Dinky Dink." I also remember Mrs. Gix reading "The Secret Garden" aloud to us. I was spellbound, not just by the story, but also by this lovely woman. She was so kind to me. I think it is pretty safe to say that my classmates and I felt loved and safe in her class. 
Skinna Marinky Dinky Dink
Skinna Marinky Do
I love you
Skinna Marinky Dinky Dink
Skinna Marinky Do
I love you
I love you in the morning
and in the afternoon
I love you in the evening
underneath the moon…..
Skinna Marinky Dinky Dink
Skinna Marinky Do
I love you
