Pixied and imperfect, I was already evolving into an over-achiever by the time I trudged into first grade–yellow rubber boots over navy Lady Janes–bundled in a nubby, winter coat my grandmother had purchased at Kaufman’s the fall before.
Though destined to sweat, I was dressed for success; I was dressed to endure.
My teacher was Miss Peach. Nearing retirement, she was petite but pudgy, doughy as unbaked biscuits–short gray curls set perfectly in place. Miss Peach was as jovial as she was full of fat and excess flesh. She enforced few rules, so we first graders were more foot-loose-and-fancy-free than straight-laced or prim and proper.
I remember loving the “Sally, Dick, and Jane” books–a perfect world I could fall into during reading groups, while the rest of the class completed “seat work” outlined on a black board. The world Dick and Jane inhabited felt cozy and carefree–one where spilt milk and muddy feet were readily forgiven, where a kitten named Puff fluffed stories into fun. I didn’t read well aloud, but well enough to mostly maintain my place in the top reading group and develop a love of narrative, its almost-neatness, its nearly-normal–the predictability of pages turned. I loved the order found in books.
However, way worse than my oral reading, was my penmanship. It was pathetic, at best. It seems the notion of neatness and legibility meant little, if anything, to me, so much so I wonder now if anyone even bothered to explain that the goal of printing was communication–that what one wrote others were meant to read and comprehend.
That is until Miss Peach held a contest of sorts.
One day in the dead of winter, Pittsburgh piled high with dirty snow, sleet freezing on slick streets, we arrived at our corner classroom to find Miss Peach perched atop a wooden chair in front of the black board, carefully printing a paragraph-long letter to the principal.
When we had put away our coats and hats, mittens and scarves, when we finally sat, hands folded, in nearly neat rows, Miss Peach announced the competition scheduled to play out that day, a drama in our classroom smelling of wet wool and pencil shavings. For seat work that morning, we were supposed to practice our penmanship, copying the letter looming on the board. Whoever reproduced it with the most perfect printing would get to carry his or her letter across the hall and deliver it in-person to the principal.
Suddenly determined, I decided I would win. If it were merely a matter of copying . . . .
To read more, please visit my latest publication at the Huffington Post. And, if you don’t mind, would you copy and paste the comments you leave here to the Huffington Post, as well? I’m trying to raise my comment rate there. And while you’re there, please “fan” and follow me!
Note: Some of you may remember an earlier version of this post from last year. I hope you enjoy the new-and-improved version.
Also: Please forgive me for being so dreadfully behind on reading the blogs of my friends here at WordPress. The holidays, work on my memoir, and several other publication efforts are getting in the way. I miss you and will catch up as soon as possible. Don’t give up on me. I love you all! Thanks to each of you for your support over these two past years of blogging.
Nice narrative, Kathy. Extremely well written. It takes me back to those days. My handwriting as atrocious, and it never improved. Thank goodness for the electric typewriter and word processors! Have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
LikeLike
Thanks so much, John. I’m delighted this works for you as a narrative. You are the man who knows how to tell a story–at least in my mind. So thank you! I remember your writing always being bad! Sorry to hear it’s not improved. Merry Christmas to you and your family, as well, John.
LikeLike
It’s great that you’re getting published over there!
LikeLike
Thanks so much, Lisa. I’m excited. Hope you have a great day, my friend. Stay warm!
LikeLike
Ahhhh, the hair. We really are soul sisters. Off to read more of your words on Huffington Post ( HOW COOL IS IT THAT YOU’RE PUBLISHED THERE?!?!?!)
LikeLike
Yes, I know! When I saw the photo of you on your blog this morning, I thought–Good God, that’s me! LOL Thanks for your support, Tori. Hugs to you, my friend!
LikeLike
Congratulations on getting your good work out there! I’m going to read the rest today…thanks for sharing this!
LikeLike
Thanks so much, Cindy. Hope you enjoy, when you get a chance. I’m excited to finally be getting some stuff published! It’s about time! Have a great day!
LikeLike
Kathy, I left a comment, then it disappeared, I think it is ‘pending’?
LikeLike
It’s there now. Thanks so much for leaving it!!!! Great to hear from you!
LikeLike
What are Lady Janes and split milk?
LikeLike
Okay, I’m a litte horrified that I made that mistake!!!!!!!!!!!!! But did I really say slit milk? GOd!
LikeLike
Your toothless little self is so cute! God Almighty it’s GREAT to see that byline, Sista! I’d be wallpapering my studio with it if I were you!
LikeLike
Thanks, sweet Sista! Thank you from the bottom of my heart! Glad you like the photo. I can’t tell you how much your support means to me!!!!!!!!!! Hugs to you!
LikeLike
I remember those books…ah and penmanship was one of my strengths…perhaps because I loved art so much…enjoyed your post.
LikeLike
Good for you, Charlie. I love art, but somehow penmanship hasn’t remained one of my strenths. Oh, well. Great to hear from you, my friend.
LikeLike
Goodness, gracious, this post takes me right back. In fact, based on your excellent description, we may have even worn the same outfit to our first day of first grade!
LikeLike
How funny, Laurie! Was quite the era for child clothing designers——NOT! LOL Thanks for reading, Laurie!
LikeLike
Nice! And congrats on the Huff Post post! How our childhood loves and triumphs (and failures) color the rest of our lives.
You and Tori BOTH had the pixie cut as kids, I see. My mom’s variation on that was the “bowl cut.” I could probably find some photos of my sister or me to illustrate it, but I’m not sure I’d want strangers to see them!
LikeLike
Oh, yes, I remember the bowl cut. Fortunately, I was never forced to endure that particular form of child abuse. Thanks for reading and for the HP enthusiasm!
LikeLike
the reason i started writing was because my English teacher in 9th grade encouraged everyone to keep a journal…i started writing every night and then i never stopped…you post reminded me of my school days… 🙂 i have so many diaries in my wardrobe behind my clothes…
LikeLike
I started to journal at about the same age–and I have SOOOOOO many from over so many years, I may have to move out of the house one of these days to make room for them! LOL Teachers can have such a big impact of kids, can’t they?! Thanks for your comment, my friend!
LikeLike
i too have so many of them…though i have stopped writing them like i used i still carry one in my bag… i can never leave my house with a pen and a notebook… 🙂
teachers are like one big thing that we look up to even when we think we hate them for all the homework and exams… 🙂
LikeLike
Yes, I can’t leave the house without a notebook and pen either. My Sara doesn’t understand at all. But you NEVER know when you might need/want to write something down, right?
LikeLike
This is known as a tease! Ha. But I think it’s great that you’re writing on The Huffington Post, and will follow your link there for the rest of the story. One question, though: was your teacher really named Miss Peach?? Because that is pretty fantastic…
LikeLike
Thanks for reading, Mark! Yes, her name was, indeed, Miss Peach! Never met a Peach I didn’t like–how about you? LOL
LikeLike
I also must confess, I do not know how to comment over there! But I read it, and love your tale of falling in love with writing.
LikeLike
I think part of what’s confusing over there is that you have to scroll so far down to get to the place where you can comment. I never used to be able to figure it out either. But, thanks again for reading!
LikeLike
“our classroom smelling of wet wool and pencil shavings.” oh your writing so delights the senses!
LikeLike
Oh, thank you, Joss! I don’t usually come up with good olfactory images. Don’t know how I did it here. Weird how it just happens sometimes. Kind of gift from the universe, if that makes any sense. Thanks so much for reading
LikeLike
Not weird at all. the Universe often moves through us as we write!
LikeLike
Thanks, Joss, I certainly believe that, as well.
LikeLike
I thought this story seemed familiar. I commented over at Huff-Po. Who approves those comments, you or them? That’s excellent that they’re publishing you!
LikeLike
Thanks, my friend! Can’t wait to see your comment. They approve. I don’t see them until they’ve done their thing. Whatever that is. So happy to see your LA today! Made my holiday. Yeah, I know. Doesn’t take much! LOL
LikeLike
Sara’s thrilled you feel that way about my LA. She’s now returning your gift.
LikeLike
Sara’s just thrilled every time the LA is yours and not mine. I bring too many LAs upon us. Better to enjoy by proxy than to do lame oneself. LOL
LikeLike
Well, remind Sara that Lame Adventurers are never dull!
LikeLike
I’ll be sure to do that!
LikeLike
Good to hear you’re busy but well. I’m not familiar with Huffington Post but will check it out!
LikeLike
Please do check it out. The Huffington Post is considered the world’s largest online newspaper. At least, I think it’s the largest. Great source of info. Thanks so much for stopping by, Claudia. Great to hear from you!
LikeLike
Great reflection about the power of motivation and writing. Plus, being at HuffPost and Freshly Pressed is beyond my world. Congratulations to you!!!
LikeLike
Thanks, Frank. Can’t begin to imagine why you’ve not been Freshly Pressed. A gross over-sight, I’m sure.
LikeLike
Ah that’s OK … so I proudly display my badge … plus I thrive on being the self-proclaimed leader of NFP Nation!
LikeLike
You make me wish I were a member! LOL
LikeLike
I just look at it this way … It’s a double-edge sword, plus I don’t fit there profile/brand … and I refuse to chase the golden goose.
LikeLike
Done and done! I’m so excited that you’ve had an essay picked up at Huff Post! Congrats.
I hope you and Sara are having a lovely holiday thus far. Please get Lucy and Ralph an extra bone from their friend Reggie.
LikeLike
Thanks so much, Jackie! I appreciate your reading and leaving me a comment over there. I’ll be sure to do the bone thing, if you agree to do the same–a big one for sweet Reggie! Happy Holidays, my friend.
LikeLike
Forgive my absence. I also haven’t been blogging for a while. I commented on your first HuffPo and will pop over there shortly.
You’re a great story-teller Kathy. Love this phrase:
our classroom smelling of wet wool and pencil shavings
LikeLike
Oh, Rosie, I’ve been absent myself. Hard to keep up with blogging over the holidays, isn’t it? Glad you enjoyed the story, and thanks for the comment–both places–now and last time as well. Have a wonderful weekend, my friend.
LikeLike
Great post, Kathy! I really like how you started it here and then directed us to your HuffPo page. Very clever; may take a “page” from you myself, next time I post there. Hope you’re well and not to harried this holiday season. You can find what I think of your post over there!
LikeLike
Thanks for your comment over there, Monica! Sorry to be so slow in responding to these. The holidays are kicking me in the you-know-what! LOL
LikeLike
Don’t you hate it when life gets in the way of blogging, Kathy? OK, will head over to Huffington Post and read. I think I already fanned you, but maybe not, because didn’t know how to do that for awhile. Congrats on having your work published there.
LikeLike
Thanks for your comment both places, Kathy. I do hate. Just can’t seem to keep up these days. Maybe life will slow down after the holidays. Or maybe it won’t. LOL MOre likely the latter, I fear!
LikeLike
I remember the days of having half way decent handwriting and printing, no longer.
Heading over to Huffington to make a real comment and follow you there.
LikeLike
Thanks for your comments both places, Val! I LOVE hearing from you. Happy holidays to you and your family!
LikeLike
I am so excited for you, with all the opportunities presenting themselves. I’m late to the party (as usual), but will head over to the Huff Post to read and comment. As a side note (sort of): I miss Kaufman’s and some of the other department stores that Macy’s absorbed.
LikeLike
Hmmm… the Huff Post is making it very difficult for me to post a comment. I don’t want to set up an account with them or connect them to my Twitter or Facebook accounts. Other options don’t seem to be working.
I enjoyed reading this again. It’s so well written, and it brought back memories of my own childhood decision to have the best penmenship. 🙂
LikeLike
Sorry about the need to sign in, Robin, but I so appreciate your reading, trying, being such a long time reader of my blog. You were one of the first Thanks, my friend!
LikeLike
Funny, I haven’t been to that part of the country in so long, I didn’t even know Kaufman’s no longer existed. Kind of sad. Hope you and your family have a beautiful holiday, my friend. Great to hear from you!
LikeLike