In year 3, we had Mrs P. I loved her and wanted her to love me. I took her gifts of apples, flowers and stories of my home life. Her skirts were the nesting grounds of a dozen cheeping girls.
In year 4 we had Miss K. Together we buried the word “nice” in the school garden. She looked jubilant, her yellow curls acting Shirley Temple in the breeze. “Nice is boring,” she conducted, hands hovering above us, as we crowded around the small grave. “I never want to see it in your writing again.”
She wore earth tones – a wrap around skirt with a geometric design in yellows, oranges and deep reds. Her earrings were dangly and ceramic. Her favourite word was effective. Certain colours together were effective. Preparing lunch the night before was effective.
Doing times tables drills was effective. She had a wooden metre ruler and she pointed at the grid squares, bouncing it in time with our chanting. “One seven is seven. Two sevens are fourteen. Three sevens are twenty one.” Standing to attention with the linoleum desk edge pressed into my thighs, I didn’t feel anything at all.
weeding the overgrown garden
a plastic brush the dusky pink of a bald mouse
the evening breeze washes my forehead
Out of the Cave 
Yikes. I don’t know how much I’d appreciate being made to be effective. But you told this really, really well. And I especially love the verse at the end. What a fantastic image: a plastic brush the dusky pink of a bald mouse
So good!
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Many thanks, Bob!!
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Everyone with a teacher like Miss K is blessed. My year 4 teacher was Mr Bunyan. He smelled the way I thought Popeye probably did.
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Like spinach. And salt. And Olive Oil. LOL. Quite a nice dish.
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Actually, you’re right. Although at the time, I worshipped Mrs P and felt nothing for Miss K, it is Miss K who has stuck in my memory. I can’t really tell you anything about Mrs P now. And I was in her class for a full year, where as we moved to Jakarta half way through year 4.
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What lovely memories. You were lucky to have such sensitive teachers. I didn’t learn about not using the word nice until I went to Art School as an adult. 🙂
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Even now, I have a list of words that I avoid using. Because there are always better alternatives.
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Miss K had clearly had one too many compositions submitted reading “I had a nice weekend. My Mum made dinner. It was nice. We had a nice day at the zoo.” etc.
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Worms ~ this is wonderful. It makes me think of my teachers from those years… I don’t have very many recollections…
❤
David
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Thanks, David. It’s funny what sticks in the fly trap of one’s brain. And often frustrating what doesn’t. 🤣
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