Amy, over at Mish Mash, wrote about her hard ass and her first grade experience, so I thought I would tell you about my seventh grade endeavor to be like my older brothers. Back in the 50's Atlanta there were no kindergartens or middle schools. You started the first grade and went through the seventh grade in elementary school. Then you went to high school, starting in the eighth grade (as a sub-freshman.)
My seventh grade teacher, Mrs. Stringfellow, pulled hair if you misbehaved. One day she came down the isle and grabbed me by the hair and shook my head telling me to stop talking in class. That afternoon, when I got home, one of my older brothers (10 and 15 years older) rubbed my head and said, “How’d it go today, squirt?”
I must have flinched, because he asked me what was wrong. I told him Mrs. Stringfellow had pulled my hair. He said something like; you probably deserved it, too. But when I walked out of the room I heard him tell my other brother, “If the bitch did that to me I would knock her teeth out.” That was good enough for me. If my brothers thought that was the thing to do, then it had to be the right thing. I mean, they were older and wiser.
The next day, down the row she came, grabbed a handful of hair and started shaking my head like a dog with an old shoe (guess I really got on her nerves sometimes.) So, I gave her an uppercut that caused her to bit her tongue. My feet didn’t touch the floor until I was in the Principle’s office. Then I was suspended for three days and kick out of school like an old drunk being thrown out of the saloon in a western movie (okay that was an exaggeration.) But I was suspended and my mom beat my butt, my dad beat my butt and my brother beat my butt for telling mom it was his fault. I walked funny for those three days.
But when I went back to school I had a “flat-top” haircut - complete with Butch Hair Wax. Let the bitch try and grab me by the hair now. So she used my ears. That's why, if you look at my head from behind, it looks like a car with the doors open.
Those were the days. I wonder what would happen to Mrs. Stringfellow if she pulled hair today. Maybe a coffeypot wanna-be would pop a cap in her ass. Or the PTA would burn her at the stake. Or the ACLU would sue her for denying the wanna-be their Constitutional Rights of Free Speech. But I do know that my mom and dad would still have beat my butt. That was their favorite pastime.
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23 comments:
LOL ....... You're a hell of a storyteller, friend! I *love* the saloon analogy!
One of my EARLIEST lessons in life was to NEVER trust an older brother's advice.
With any luck she's playing Mrs. Santa at a Senior's home, and all the catheter babes are leaving puddles in her whatnot. That would be great, but unfortunately she's probably dead by now. Bummer.
Sorry but that was freaking hysterical!
back in those days the kids were always wrong and the whole neighborhood could wup your ass and your parents would be okay with it.
Too funny.
I 'spect I was lucky. We had some strict teachers but never any physical abuse.
But it must have been a great feeling to deliver that uppercut to Mrs. Stringfellow. Even if the feeling lasted only a couple seconds. ;-)
Clew, I had to learn the hard way, too. I never could please them, though.
Cooper, I have a feeling she is gone to that great chalkboard in the sky, too. Or is teaching torture in hell.
Teri, I have to admit, I have had many a mother’s hands on my butt. I wasn’t really bad, but I had my moments.
Electronic goose, I’m glad you enjoyed it, and thanks for stopping by.
e.craig, I would like to say it did, but as soon as I felt fist meet skin I knew I had fucked up royally and I was scared to death. I’m just glad they didn’t take me out back and shoot me.
LOL. Those were the days, alright.
We had a teacher in our school that would pull us by our ears, too. He would literally lift you off of your feet.
A couple of years ago, this smae teacher was a sub in my oldest daughters class. He was lamenting the fact that he was no longr allowed to hit/grab/pull/thrash the kids.
I NEVER listen to my older brother!
Ah...the days when the strap (or the cane in England) was still used. Now it's the behaviour support room and everyone is on ritalin.
I had this french teacher who used to totally LOSE it and throw chalk brushes, usually missing her target. Once she slammed a heavy text book on the glass top of an overhead projector. Smashed it to bits, then yelled "look what you made me do!". No one could contain their laughter. I'm amazed she didn't have a stroke.
not really laughing at your misfortunes but its just the way you tell us, you are so funny!
"Those were the days. I wonder what would happen to Mrs. Stringfellow if she pulled hair today. Maybe a coffeypot wanna-be would pop a cap in her ass. Or the PTA would burn her at the stake. Or the ACLU would sue her for denying the wanna-be their Constitutional Rights of Free Speech. But I do know that my mom and dad would still have beat my butt. That was their favorite pastime."
That is absolutely HILARIOUS.
And, in most aspects, unfortunately true.
YAY! She deserved it! Hit her again for me!
Of course these days, you'd prolly go to a juvenile detention home.
Those were the days.
Here's one for you if you haven't seen it yet:
To make your day, here is a good chuckle!!!
My thanks to all those who have sent me emails this past year .........
I must send my thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat shit in the
glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel with every envelope
that needs sealing.
Also, I now have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same
reason.
I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny
Brown); who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.
I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I
receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending
me for participating in their special e-mail program ..
Or from the senior bank clerk in Nigeria who wants me to split $7
million with me for pretending to be a long lost relative of a
customer who died intestate.
I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels
looking out for me.
I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like
a water buffalo on a hot day.
Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if
I forward e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five
minutes.
Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca-Cola because it
can remove toilet stains.
I no longer can buy petrol without taking a man along to watch the
car so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm filling
up.
I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with
a perfume sample and rob me.
I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial
a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica ,
Uganda , Singapore and Uzbekistan .
Thanks to you, I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big
brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant
death when it bites my bum.
And thanks to your great advice,
I can't even pick up the $5.00 I found dropped in the car park
because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting
underneath my car to grab my leg.
If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next
70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head
at 5:00pm this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest
your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump.
I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of
my next door neighbour's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's
cousin's beautician.
By the way....a South American scientist after a lengthy study
has discovered that people with low IQ who have infrequent sexual
activity always read their e-mails with their hand on the mouse.
Don't bother taking it off now, it's too late.
I popped over from Her indoors because I saw your comment and thought your blog name was cool!
So glad I did as that was a very funny story - now adays she'd definitely be burnt at the stake!
yikes!
you were a brave kid!
good story. i can't believe beating kids in school was acceptable! yes, you're right though, now we have ritalin instead. hopefully, we'll find a happy medium someday!
"like an old drunk being thrown out of the saloon in a western movie"
Well said!
Teachers were allowed to be stupidly cruel. But, not kids get away with anything. Where's the balance???
Wow. I got off pretty easy!
Great story!
Mrs. Stringfellow sounds like a name a hair pulling teacher would have! We had to stand up and recite Bible verses until the cows came home. To this day, I hate memorizing Bible verses.
My seventh grade Social Studies teacher left welts on one of my friends behind that bruised. He was a tyrant. If he called on you in class and you didn't know the answer, he put you in the row far to the right known as "Deadwood". You weren't allowed to speak there. The only way you could get out was if he asked you a question and you knew the answer. Neither of these practices would be acceptable today. Neither the bruised butt or the bruised psyche.
Great story, Coffeypot.
Gawilli
You were in first grade in the 50s?! And you're still alive?! ;-)
But really, the bit about the ACLU had me roaring ... because that's EXACTLY what would happen today.
biddie, I think some of the teachers from back in the day got off on some of the brutality.
olly, maybe she needed an uppercut. I bet she would have stroked out if that happened.
katy, yes you are laughing at me and my misfortune. But that’s okay! I do it, too.
rwa, it is true, but now days I would have been put on drugs or in special ed classes - or both.
mst, that was great. I’ve emailed it to my email clan, and I did have my hand on the mouse. Dammit!
alix, thanks for stopping by. You came over from good company.
Kittenpower, the beating of students had ended by the time I started school. At least it had in Atlanta. But the hair and ear pulling was quiet common. I wasn’t brave either. I just reacted instead of thinking. I still do that a lot.
Heidi, you are right. Teachers can get away with most anything because the kids are still looking up to adults as the authority figure. That is why teaching is so important. Teachers are dealing with kids physique and can actually do damage in their development.
amy, I don’t think any of us ever got off easy in school.
Gawilli, I went to school with plenty of welts and bruses, but, other than the damage to my selfesteme, I got off with just hair and ear pulling. But I was told many a time that I was lazy. When I was told that I would just roll over and go back to sleep – ‘till I got my hair pulled.
bottleblond, yep! I stated grammar (elementary) school in September, 1950. And, yes, parts of me are still alive.
got you something call at mine
Mrs. Stringfellow was a tough old bitch wasn't she?
Sounds like my typing teacher: retired navy officer. She would throw erasers at us and only had two volumes: Silent and Screaming.
I think kids should be taught to behave... BUT, some of those old school teachers were just sadistic.
One of the things I am most proud of is that my children are too afraid to tell me anything they were accused of at school. Why risk two ass whippings for one offense?
I don't mean to say the teacher is always right but if they get a beatin' needlessly, it makes up for the time I didn't catch them for something else they did.
It all evens out in the end.
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