Second Grade
Today, we took our daughter Mimi to her first day of second grade…only to discover that school doesn’t start until tomorrow. So, she did learn something after all—not that she didn’t already have an inkling that her parents are a couple of space cases.
I know that there is much she will come to understand in the coming year—and I’m certain much of it will confirm her already jaundiced perspective on her mom and dad. I suppose it’s inevitable that she will come to doubt the wisdom of her dad, in particular. Especially when she learns, as I expect do most second graders, that the capital cursive “G” is not identical to the capital “Q.”
My own second grade experience was pretty educational. Along with learning the state capitals, I also found out that if I held Pam Mayer’s hand in just the right way, I would get a strange buzzing sound happening right behind my eyes. While this wasn’t a required component of our curriculum, I do feel as if this information served me in far greater staid than knowing whether Pierre was the capital of North or South Dakota.
Second grade was a place of great triumph and spectacular failure for me. I went the entire year without spelling a word wrong on any spelling test—until the second to last weekly quiz, when I was tripped up by the word “heart.” (Marking the first of many subsequent times when matters of the heart caused me to stumble.) Mrs. McConnan insisted that “hart” was an incorrect rendering of the word. (I tried to argue that I was spelling the term for a male deer, to no avail.)
So, as my daughter enters the second of her next 18 or 20 years of schooling, it’s inevitable that I should feel a certain connection with my own educational history. Which I guess explains why I’m currently getting that strange buzzing sound right behind my eyes.
I know that there is much she will come to understand in the coming year—and I’m certain much of it will confirm her already jaundiced perspective on her mom and dad. I suppose it’s inevitable that she will come to doubt the wisdom of her dad, in particular. Especially when she learns, as I expect do most second graders, that the capital cursive “G” is not identical to the capital “Q.”
My own second grade experience was pretty educational. Along with learning the state capitals, I also found out that if I held Pam Mayer’s hand in just the right way, I would get a strange buzzing sound happening right behind my eyes. While this wasn’t a required component of our curriculum, I do feel as if this information served me in far greater staid than knowing whether Pierre was the capital of North or South Dakota.
Second grade was a place of great triumph and spectacular failure for me. I went the entire year without spelling a word wrong on any spelling test—until the second to last weekly quiz, when I was tripped up by the word “heart.” (Marking the first of many subsequent times when matters of the heart caused me to stumble.) Mrs. McConnan insisted that “hart” was an incorrect rendering of the word. (I tried to argue that I was spelling the term for a male deer, to no avail.)
So, as my daughter enters the second of her next 18 or 20 years of schooling, it’s inevitable that I should feel a certain connection with my own educational history. Which I guess explains why I’m currently getting that strange buzzing sound right behind my eyes.
posted by Professor Dave at 11:38 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home