Teachers I remember — both good and bad

After the first few days of kindergarten, I walked myself to school and so did most of the other kids.

It was rather far from my home, and in today’s world would have definitely been a school bus ride. My teacher at Ruggles Street School in Providence, Rhode Island was Miss DiPasquale. She was new my year and encouraged me to try many things. I was terribly shy and would have done a drawing every day if it had not been for her putting an apron on me and leading me to an easel with a paint wagon full of jars with varying colors.

Kids back then knew little, so one day she told us she would dismiss us by calling our street names, and then we could go to the cloakroom to get our coats. I was the only kid who lived on Pleasant Valley Parkway, and she forgot to call that street. I sat on the floor as she dismissed the other children, and when she returned to the classroom to get her lunch, there I sat, quietly crying in the darkened kindergarten room. She called my street, dressed me, and walked me home. I loved her, and she seemed to especially watch out for me ever after that.

My first grade teacher was Miss Feeney, and she taught us to read. The Dick and Jane books were not thrilling, but I was amazed I could read: "See Jane run, See Dick run."

It was my second grade teacher, however, that I will never forget. Her name was Miss Reed. Somehow, I could stand on the sides of my feet with my ankles on the floor. She thought that was so amazing and had me come up in front of the class often to show the other kids. She even had them try it, but I was the only one who could perform this tricky maneuver. One day, I told Miss Reed the colored paper drawer was a mess. She encouraged me to fix it in my spare time. This made me rush with my work and try my best to get it all right, so I could tackle my special project. She let me take home any scraps I wanted, and even pieces of large paper with just a snip out of a corner. I always had the perfect colored covers for my reports since, back then, you could not just go to the store and buy colored paper.

Miss Marshall was Grade 3. She was the one who told my mother and my brother Don that he should definitely become a lawyer when he grew up – he did.

For the fourth grade, I had to go to another school called Nelson Street. It was at the very tip of the Providence College campus and, once again, mine was one of the last houses in that district. I had a long walk to school every day and, because lunchtime was so short, I walked home for lunch and rode the public bus back to school. I cannot remember the teacher’s name that year, but that was when I met my friend Anna and her kid brother Al who, many, many years later, became my husband.

In fifth grade, we had Miss Kevel. She was strict and not at all pleasant. That year, someone in my neighborhood burned a hillside, trying to get rid of invasive plants. From the downfall of ash, I got poison ivy, poison oak, and poison sumac, all at the same time. I was a mess and in pain. They took me to a young skin doctor (back then, you had to be pretty bad to see a specialist). He spent so much time examining my very open sores and even called in his father, a very seasoned dermatologist, to give his opinion on my treatment. I was out of school for five weeks. When I went back, my mother took me to school and told Miss Kevel that I could stay after school if that was what was needed for me to catch up. She would not help in any way, and she said I could just repeat the grade. Now, it became my older brother Don’s job to teach me long division, which he did, and I was promoted.

The last grade at that school was sixth, and I was taught by Miss Matheson. She was determined to get us well prepared to go on to either Nathaniel Green Junior High or George J. West Junior High, depending on the neighborhood you lived in. This was the year that Anna and I would have to split up. As we started home one day, Anna was crying and said Miss Matheson had told her she made the All-City orchestra. Anna played violin. She was crying because she could not read any of the music and just played what she heard the others playing. I told her to go to Miss Matheson and explain that, and she got out of the city orchestra. She was so happy and relieved. We did not know it at the time, but Anna and I luckily met up again at the same high school.

Off to junior high. I could actually see the school from my house, but it was a weird place back then. There were many older and meaner kids there. Some had repeated a number of grades. Some even drove to school because they were so old. I was ever so glad to leave that place.

I was over the moon happy to go off to Classical High School starting in the ninth grade. It was an extremely academic school, and all but one person in my class went on to college, although she accomplished that later in life. It was in the era when we had to get under our desk when there was an alert in case of an attack. Miss Boyd, our history teacher, allayed our fears by telling us not to worry about Russia, but “do worry about China,” she would say.

Miss McDonald was the creative writing teacher. I never got more than a B+ in her class. I wonder if she would think my stories are worth a better grade now. I do think part of her dislike of me was due to the fact that I wore a jangly bracelet many days to class. It got to the point where she would meet me at the door, remove the bracelet from my wrist, and put it back on when I left. Can you imagine that happening today? At that same time, Coach Morro called me over in the hall each morning. He was the football coach, and I would try my best to sneak by him but never could. He just chatted with me, but one day, I finally got up the courage to ask why he stopped me each day, and he said because he loved the way I blushed. Again, can you imagine that happening today?

College was the University of Rhode Island down by the shore in my home state. Everyone there tried to have a spring and fall schedule that would allow them beach days. I joined Alpha Xi Delta sorority and had so many memories with my amazing Alpha Xi sisters. I can still hear the harmony sung when a gal got pinned and the fraternity sang their sweetheart song and we sang ours back.

Professor Simmons was one of my favorite teachers during my college years. One day, I was in my room studying for my very last exam of my four years at URI. One of my sorority sisters knocked on my door to tell me that Professor Simmons was on the telephone for me. I ran to the little phone booth and he asked where I was. I said I was in my room studying for tomorrow’s English final. That’s when he told me they had just taken that test. I was shaking in my shoes, thinking I would not be graduating with my class. He told me not to worry, and to come the next day when I thought the exam was to be given. He would just choose another one out of his files to give me. What a sweet guy, good teacher, and a total gentleman.

Even back then, most school systems required you to earn a master's degree to become a teacher, which was my course of study. I never lived anywhere long enough to do that once I had married. I was able, however, to amass 36 credits above my bachelors. That is when I finally became a good student and worked to my potential, never getting less than an A in any graduate course I took. I taught kindergarten in Providence, Rhode Island for five years before I married. When I got to my beloved Katonah, I became a substitute teacher for the Katonah/Lewisboro school system for many years, followed by a long stint in a resource room.