Mrs. P. and Me

Last night I had dinner with my 7th grade teacher.

Six of the "girls" from my 8th grade graduating class got together for what will probably become an annual summer dinner event now that we've reconnected after fifty years. We were joined by Mrs. P. who is now an extremely active and delightful 80-something woman. Mrs. P. said she "so enjoyed being with "young people" who didn't spend the evening moaning and groaning about body parts." We loved being referred to as "young people".

As much as I enjoyed Mrs. P's company last night, I only have two distinct memories of her class.

One was that Mrs. P was pregnant. I was so naive, however, that I was probably the last kid in the entire class to figure out that she wore the same over-sized plaid jacket every day for a reason other than that she liked it. Looking back, Mrs. P. was quite the modern woman. She was a working mother in the late 50's, leaving her older son in some sort of day care and continuing to teach while expecting son number two. In those days, women teachers in the Chicago Public Schools were not allowed to work after their first trimester. She probably wore that over-sized plaid jacket because she couldn't publicly be visibly pregnant as a teacher. Hard to think of the petite, white haired lady I ate with last night as a 50's rabble rouser.

The other memory is very strong. As typical 7th graders, my friends and I loved to talk and to pass notes. One day Diane, Donna and I were passing notes prior to leaving our classroom to go to the music room. Mrs. P. threatened that anyone who talked or passed notes in music class would "have to write the history of the 48 states". Soon after we arrived in the music room, I passed a note and whispered to Diane and Donna. I wasn't caught but Diane and Donna were assigned the horrible writing assignment. For a couple of weeks I slunk around feeling terribly guilty for bringing this punishment down on my best friends. It was horrible. Every so often I'd get up the courage to ask one of them how the writing was going. They would answer, "We're on Illinois."

Many weeks later my friends finally told me that they actually didn't have to write the history of the 48 states. They said that Mrs. P. swore them to secrecy about not having to do the punishment. "We're on Illinois." was their way of not lying...because they were, in fact, standing on Illinois.

I was greatly relieved for my friends, but was personally crushed. A respected teacher resorting to a meaningless threat followed by deceit was really traumatic to me. It changed my whole view of Mrs. P.

I long ago forgave the young, pregnant, frustrated teacher but the message of that event has stayed with me. Yes, I tried really, really hard to not fall into a Mrs. P- like trap, but, yes, I sometimes gave idle threats to my children and, yes, I occasionally gave idle threats to my students. But oh how I regretted it each time it happened!

What a reminder that parents and teachers don't always realize the power of their actions and words!

(An aside to my younger readers: Yes, I actually lived in a time when there were only 48 states! Alaska and Hawaii joining the union was actually the topic for one of the speeches at my 8th grade graduation!)