These thoughts and experiences are my own. My intent is not to make fun of or put down a person. This blog is cheaper than therapy and it helps me to lay things out and make sense out of them. I figure the three people that read this blog can handle what I post, but if not, just delete the e-mail and go on with your day.
Did I ever tell you about the time I got an ‘F” in English?
My elementary teachers decided that the students would “change classes” in the sixth grade. This was to prepare us for the upcoming seventh grade. In seventh grade, you would change rooms for each class and that class could be anywhere in the building. I’m guessing all junior high schools do this.
The sixth graders would go to math, English, science, etc., based on test scores and grades. You had a homeroom and would possbily go change class rooms for different subjects. They were all in the same area of the building three doors altogether.
I generally did well in English. My grades weren’t perfect but I had passing grades. English was always my highest grade. Math was always my worst. I could have done better in school, but I hated studying.
The Assignment
One day in the English class, the teacher assigned homework. I believe it was 3 pages and each page would count as a grade.
When the homework due date rolled around, I had it with me and had completed it, but left it in my homeroom. I told the teacher I had it and it was next door. She wouldn’t let me go get it because in the “real world” I wouldn’t be allowed to get the homework. I got three zeros.
Here comes report card day. A great big ‘F’ in English. Unfortunately, it did not stand for “Fantastic”. I asked the teacher why I got an ‘F’ and she reminded me about my homework that I failed to turn in. Once I saw the grade, I began making out my will and deciding what kinds of flowers I wanted at my funeral.
That day father picks us up from day care. The first thing he asks is to see my report card. He was not happy, but there were too many witnesses around. He asked how I got an ‘F’ in English. I told him what happened as and you can tell I am still alive today.
I don’t remember much about what transpired. He calmed down when I explained that I had done the work and even had it but because of a class change, had left it in the homeroom.
What do I think about this now?
I think it boils down to the fact that I was eleven years old. You can’t hold an eleven year old to the same standard as a junior high, high school student or even an adult.
The situation would have been better if she had worked with me on this. Take points off for turning it in late. That would have been reasonable.
In the “real world” I think that most people will work with you on things. I know there are dire situations and mistakes are deadly. Homework isn’t one of them.
Years later I was at an event and this English teacher was there with her family. She had a son around my age and was saying things to get us together. He already had a girlfriend and mentioned they were getting married.
My consolation is that we all make mistakes. Give someone a break, especially if they are a kid and of course she got stuck with a daugher in law that she didn’t like. That always makes the holidays happy.
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