Introduction
In 1968, things were a lot different than they are today. In this story, I’ll compare kindergarten in 1968 to what it is like now, in 2018. As you will find, 50 years can change a lot of things.Â
Yesterday
Every day at 3 pm, my little dude returns home from school and comes into my office to give me a big hug. Yesterday I knew something special had happened to him because of his smile and energy. As shown in Figure 1, he was given the 2017-2018 Bulldog Award. When I asked him why he received that, he said it was because he was a good listener.
One of the things I have learned about Jett is that he likes recognition and awards. He doesn’t try to get them, he just behaves properly while at school and good things happen to him. On any given day, he might come home with a “Showdog” sticker, which is indicative of good behavior.
Jett has an analytical brain. He knows how many Showdog stickers he has received. Figure 2 shows his collection, which he proudly displayed on a bathroom mirror. We now have a database of when he received these and he will be making a Tableau visualization of his kindergarten awards once school ends in two weeks and we have time for more Tableau training.
To summarize, Jett is attending a wonderful school where kids are recognized for good behavior, there is a lot of love, and I have a happy little boy because of these things. I have seen Jett flourish in this environment and his progress this year has been amazing to see. His teacher is very talented and the other staff members are tremendous.
When Jett was talking about this new award, he asked me if I had ever received an award in kindergarten. I chuckled and told him that I have a different kind of kindergarten story than his. Here is my story.
Going Back to 1968
I grew up in Chicago, and my schooling didn’t start off as smoothly as Jett’s has. In head start as a 4-year-old, I remember throwing finger paints at the teachers because I thought it would be a good idea to do so. By the time I hit kindergarten the next year, I probably already had a reputation as a bit of a rebel.
My kindergarten teacher was experienced and didn’t accept any misbehavior. She was a 5-foot tall disciplinarian that laid down the law with me.
My most vivid memory was being grabbed by the earlobes and pulled across the room to sit in the corner with a dunce cap on. She didn’t just grab my earlobe, she used her fingernails to pinch the earlobes. Her sharp fingernails would leave little arcuate cuts in the earlobes, which wasn’t very enjoyable.
After having this happen a few times, I hatched a plan. The plan worked for about a week until the truant officer called my Mom and let her in on the caper.
Playing Hooky
Since I walked to school by myself, my plan went like this. About a block into my walk to school, I’d stop at the bar down the street (the bar owner was named Joe and he knew me and my Mom). I went into the bar to find Joe cleaning the bar, doing dishes, sweeping the floor, etc. I asked him if I could help him wash the glasses. I remember it was getting warm outside, so this story must have taken place near the end of my kindergarten year.
Joe asked me if I should be in school, but I lied and told him I went in the afternoon session. Looking back on this, I realize I had a devious mind even then! Luckily, Joe never asked me why I’d be walking around by myself as a 5-year-old at 8 am! I guess people figured I was studious based on the pictures taken of me at the time (Figure 3).
On that first Monday, I started my job. I washed glasses and helped clean the bar. Joe paid me a quarter for the workday, and I left about the time that the morning school session ended. Joe thought I was leaving to go to school, but actually, I headed over to the candy store to spend the quarter before walking home. Nobody at home realized I hadn’t been to school since I showed up when I normally would do so.
My hooky plan worked perfectly that week. I made a $1.25 and bought all kinds of candy. I was as happy as a kid in a candy store because I was a kid in a candy store!
The following Monday, my caper came to an abrupt ending. I remember this scene as vividly as it happened a moment ago. As I was walking in between our house and the neighbor’s house, I looked at our front porch and saw my big brother Danny staring at me. I knew the gig was up based on the look on his face. I turned to run away from him, and within a few steps, Danny had caught me and grabbed me by my shoulders.
When your big brother is over 6 feet tall and you are about 4 feet tall, the chase is over before it even begins. He picked me up as I screamed and kicked to be left alone. He yelled at me and demanded to know where I had been. It was big brother vs little brother, and I’m pretty sure big brother won.
He said that our Mom was very upset because she got a call from the truant officer that day. The officer wanted to know why I had missed school for 6 days in a row.
Now let me pause the story for one moment. If you have been reading this blog for a while, you know that I’m going to give you proof to substantiate my outlandish claims. You already know that I am a serious data dork and that I can whip data out of thin air at a moment’s notice. For this reason, I offer Figure 4 to show proof that I missed a lot of time that year, based on my 1968-1969 Kindergarten report card!
Once the gig was up, I had to explain to my Mom how Miss Arnold was cutting my earlobes. The scabs were still in place to prove my assertion.
As you might imagine, this didn’t sit too well with my Mom or my big Sister Fay. My next memory occurred the following day, as my Sister Fay took me to school to confront Miss Arnold. I still remember looking upwards at the scene with my sister Fay telling Miss Arnold: “If you ever touch my little brother again like that, you will be dealing with me!”, as she pointed her finger into Miss Arnold’s face. My sister forever became my hero based on that moment.
Needless to say, I didn’t have any more earlobe incidents, and I managed to graduate to first grade despite missing 44 days of school (Wow!). Somehow I don’t think I was a bad student based on my grades (Figure 5), but I must not have been a well-behaved student like Jett is!
Thanks for reading!
Funny memories . Love reading your blogs
Hi Jigs,
Whenever these types of stories present themselves, I can’t help writing them because I need a break from all this technobabble. Thanks for writing to me and reading my ramblings! This story is one of my favorites!
Ken