![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jdmkleinI went to parochial schools until I was in 8th grade. At the end of the 7th grade, I was asked not to return to Sacred Heart because it was felt, by Sister Mary Valeria, that I was not suited for the type of discipline used at the school.
My parochial school years were memorable for many things, but Sister Mary Eulalia was the most memorable teacher. She was my 4th-grade teacher. My classroom was on the first floor, 4th door down on the left as you walk into the 5th St. entrance.
The classroom looked out onto Randolph St. and the side playground. Fortunately, all the classes had recess at the same time, so there was no distraction during teaching time. Lucky for me. Luckily for me, I was not sitting near the windows. Sister Eulalia and I were not the best of friends.
She and I didn't see eye to eye on many things. Back in the day students were required to learn addition, subtraction, and multiplication tables by memorizing them. We were expected to spit out the correct answer to any math answer at any time. Most often this happened during arithmetic class. We were not allowed to use our fingers or any other form of help to give the answer. Somehow I had learned the Japanese way of using fingertips to help with the calculations. Sister Mary Eulalia would get so upset with me she once came to my desk and slapped my left hand with a 12" ruler that had a metal strip. I still carry the scar of that little visit on the ring finger of my left hand. She told me to put my hands in my desk and answer a series of math problems. We had the old fashioned desks with an open shelf underneath the desktop. They were also on rails so that they would stay in a straight line at all times. The desks had a groove on the top for our pencils and pens and had an inkwell for our feather pens. (Kidding about the feather pens, but not about the inkwell. She was so angry, I think, that she didn't imagine I would be smart enough to use my fingers in my desk. I didn't need to actually see what my fingers were doing. Unfortunately, I was not fast enough with my answer. A second knock on the knuckles was given. And I was told that from that time on, I would be required to stand with my hands visible whenever I was asked to answer a math question. Seems funny, now, because the very method I was using 60 odd years ago, is the kind of thing teachers are encouraging students to use today.
This was the beginning of Sister Mary Valeria's idea that I was not suited for parochial discipline.
Another thing that makes Sister Mary Eulalia memorable is that she would fall asleep in our classroom. She was our main teacher, so we spent most of the day with her. Sometimes when we would be working at our desks on some tasks, one could look to the front of the room and see Sister's head nodding and eventually dropping down to her chest. We learned quickly that if we were quiet enough, we could all help each other with our task. It only took one day of the whole class missing the afternoon recess to teach us that lesson.
547
My parochial school years were memorable for many things, but Sister Mary Eulalia was the most memorable teacher. She was my 4th-grade teacher. My classroom was on the first floor, 4th door down on the left as you walk into the 5th St. entrance.
The classroom looked out onto Randolph St. and the side playground. Fortunately, all the classes had recess at the same time, so there was no distraction during teaching time. Lucky for me. Luckily for me, I was not sitting near the windows. Sister Eulalia and I were not the best of friends.
She and I didn't see eye to eye on many things. Back in the day students were required to learn addition, subtraction, and multiplication tables by memorizing them. We were expected to spit out the correct answer to any math answer at any time. Most often this happened during arithmetic class. We were not allowed to use our fingers or any other form of help to give the answer. Somehow I had learned the Japanese way of using fingertips to help with the calculations. Sister Mary Eulalia would get so upset with me she once came to my desk and slapped my left hand with a 12" ruler that had a metal strip. I still carry the scar of that little visit on the ring finger of my left hand. She told me to put my hands in my desk and answer a series of math problems. We had the old fashioned desks with an open shelf underneath the desktop. They were also on rails so that they would stay in a straight line at all times. The desks had a groove on the top for our pencils and pens and had an inkwell for our feather pens. (Kidding about the feather pens, but not about the inkwell. She was so angry, I think, that she didn't imagine I would be smart enough to use my fingers in my desk. I didn't need to actually see what my fingers were doing. Unfortunately, I was not fast enough with my answer. A second knock on the knuckles was given. And I was told that from that time on, I would be required to stand with my hands visible whenever I was asked to answer a math question. Seems funny, now, because the very method I was using 60 odd years ago, is the kind of thing teachers are encouraging students to use today.
This was the beginning of Sister Mary Valeria's idea that I was not suited for parochial discipline.
Another thing that makes Sister Mary Eulalia memorable is that she would fall asleep in our classroom. She was our main teacher, so we spent most of the day with her. Sometimes when we would be working at our desks on some tasks, one could look to the front of the room and see Sister's head nodding and eventually dropping down to her chest. We learned quickly that if we were quiet enough, we could all help each other with our task. It only took one day of the whole class missing the afternoon recess to teach us that lesson.
547
