How The First Grade Scarred Me For Life. 

Last night, while watching a little kid hit his dad in the “twig and berries” instead of a piñata, on America’s Funniest Home Videos, I suddenly had what some might call a childhood memory. I call it one of many horrible childhood flashbacks.

My first grade teacher was a bitch. I was actually happy when, as an adult, I had heard she died. She does, I’m quite sure, currently reside in Hell, thus making me feel quite sorry for Satan himself. 

The elementary school that I went to didn't have individual classrooms. We had what they referred to as a "pod." There was a pod for each grade - 1st grade, 2nd grade, 3rd grade and 4th grade - and each pod had 5 sectioned areas for 5 separate classrooms. There was also a main common area where every Friday afternoon, if we were good, we would watch a film.

We also watched a film on every Monday about a different area of the world. That particular week we were going to study Mexico.  After we viewed the film on Mexico we were told that on Friday of that week we would be able to come to school dressed as Senors and Senoritas and - this is the best part - we would be able to take a swing at a piñata. Everyone was so excited.  Mrs. Harris told us that she would be buying and stuffing the piñata herself. All the other classes got to work as a team in building and stuffing their piñatas. But not Mrs. Harris's group. Oh no. That might be too much fun for us, and God forbid anyone have any fun.

Friday came and we were all decked out in our Mexican garb. I remember having a long red skirt that, when I twirled around at super high speeds, would make a perfect circle. I think you could see my underwear. I also had on a white shirt that had an elastic collar that I pulled down to show my bare shoulders. But the best part of my ensemble was the toilet tissue flower my mom made that I bobby pinned into the side of my hair. Aside from the red hair and freckles, I looked just like any other Mexican - or so I thought.

The 1st grade pod was all a-buzz with excitement. Everyone had helped their teacher all week to make their class's piñata, but not Mrs. Harris's class. While everyone else was using paper mache and paint, we were in our "quiet time." I don't remember what the other classrooms had for their piñata but I do remember that ours looked like a sick dog. Later we found out that it was supposed to be a horse, though it had no ears and no eyes.

At the end of the day, instead of watching a film like we would normally do on a Friday, all the other classes had gathered around their piñatas to have a turn hitting it. We all speculated as to what kind of candy or prizes were inside. Tootsie Rolls? Maybe. Lollipops? Perhaps. Bouncy Balls? We'll see.

While everyone else was hitting their piñatas, we were still seated, wondering when we would get to smack the shit out of ours. The way the pods were set up, we could see all the other classes hitting theirs. Still, we waited. We watched as all the other kids would dive down and grab at the amazing amounts of candy. Mrs. Harris's class? Sitting. Waiting.

Finally, I remember vividly the quiet little boy that never said one word raised his hand. Mrs. Harris asked him what he wanted. He then asked, "When will we be able to hit our piñata?" Everyone was so glad that someone had finally asked. We were on the edge of our seats waiting to hear her say, "Why, right now of course." But instead, that crusty, old black bitch said, "We're not hitting our piñata. I spent my own money on that. I have a bag of candy that I will pass around before you go home today."

Can you imagine how let down we were? This is what we had waited for all week. It's all we had talked about. It was bad enough that we didn't get to make our own like everyone else but then we couldn't even bust it open?!

My hatred for Mrs. Harris started long before that day but this just made it worse. Finally, when it was time for our parents to come for us, she opened up a bag of candy. Think back to when you were a kid. What was the worst candy you could've gotten? Yep, Brach's Star Brite Peppermint Candy. Fuck you, Mrs. Harris. Fuck you!

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Birmingham Bob - Those pods sucked IP:4.58.48.50 | 2008-03-28 08:18:41 Yep good ole TRM. I wasn't a fan of the pod system to say the least. I had problems paying attention to my own class. Sorry to hear you were scarred for life due to the unfortunate pinata incident. Reply 0   0

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