This morning, driving in for some reasons I thought about the educators who were in my life, I remember Ms. Vereen, my first grade teacher, she was a family cousin as was tough as nails, I remember her spanking me because I read the whole book instead of the two pages she told us to read…guess I was showing off I had been reading since four…well it taught me not to show off because she pulled me to the front of the classroom, pulled up my literal dress and popped me on my butt…today she would end up in prison…how times have changed, I was just glad mama had put on my ruffled panties…
In second grade, Mrs. Jones was my teacher, she also had a blood tie to my family and she was the one who taught me elocution and placed me in every play that came along from 1st through 5th grades…she also gave me a scholarship from her sorority when I graduated from high school and I hadn’t seen her in years…so grateful to her…
Third grade, my teacher was Mrs. Andrews, she was my pastor’s wife and what I remember most was her wanting to past me from 3rd to 4th grade immediately and my mama not allowing it, didn’t want me rushed, I am still not over that one…so as a bonus she allowed me to tutor 1st and 2nd graders…
Fourth grade found me in Ms. Holt’s class, she was only about 23 at the time as so pretty, dark brown skin, shoulder length hair and mini-skirts and she allowed us to listen to soul music in her class…she also taught me a hard lesson, she was having a spelling bee and giving $10 to the winner, she would not allow me to participate…me or Lester, w e had to go to the library…ummph, but a good thing came from that, I learned that we have to work hard for stuff and not always take the easy route, because me and Lester could spell any words…
By sixth grade I finally had male teachers, two in fact. Mr. Isaacson was a young white man fresh out of a Wisconsin college and was out of his element in an inner city school. But, he would always tell me I was going far…called me, Angelia Vernon, girl genius…haa haa haa…
And there was Mr. Allen, he was the flyest teacher ever, wore the coolest glasses and suits…he had come with me from my old school…and he didn’t play, for a brief period I tried to fit into a different environment by hiking up my skirts and acting all ‘fast’, he cold stopped me in my tracks by telling me how I would end up and threatening to tell my mama…Scared straight….
After that I was pretty much ready for anything because I had been nurtured and educated by educators who cared about me, wanted better for me than I knew to want for myself and were willing to give it to me ‘straight-no-chaser…’
Man, am I grateful for them…and I Thank God for them and for giving me enough sense to pay attention…
Angelia,
www.angeliamenchan.com
