What an interesting dilemma our local and area schools are faced with this winter! Certainly, the concept of not having enough time in the year for snow make-up is a new one.
For my grandparents' generation, the notion of snow make-up days would have been as foreign as an iPod. My Uncle Daryl recalls walking "one mile and a tenth" to school on days that were so cold "you'd freeze to death if you stood still." My Aunt Marie remembers one day of her childhood that inclement weather forced her to stay home, and my friend Ken recalls that "severe weather" simply meant he got a ride for the two-mile journey.
Many of my grandparents' generation were the product of the one-room schoolhouse, where one teacher taught all subjects to eight grades of up to 30 children. Here is where the three "R's" were stressed - reading, writing and arithmetic. It was through endless lessons on penmanship that my grandmother developed her signature style of writing that is so synonymous with her age bracket. It was in this one-room schoolhouse that my grandfather learned geography on a small steel globe, which survives to this day - it is my most precious belonging. At a height of no more than 10 inches, this globe sat on my grandfather's grade school desk more than seven decades ago. It is remarkably practical, complete with longitude, latitude, national boundaries and capital cities, geographical landmarks, distance in miles between major world cities, and even denotes magnetic variation. It was made in the USA at a time when Iran did not exist. What a wonderful world it must have been.
This globe is the only physical link I have with the one-room schoolhouse of yesteryear, making the stories told by my friends that much more valuable. One would think, that with up to 30 kids of all grades in one room, disorder would ensue. You couldn't have been more wrong.
Daryl remembers discipline: "You'd see [the teacher] look up at the wall at the clock, and if she couldn't hear that son of a [gun] ticking, boy, there was going to be something. ... With 28 kids in that room, we were quiet as a mouse."
Before he passed away, my grandfather relayed to me an even more colorful story regarding his grade school career. Grandpa described 15- and 16-year olds still trying to pass eighth grade - they had missed too many lessons due to farm obligations to graduate. A certain teacher educated my grandfather's class, and this particular teacher only had one arm. Since the class consisted of some "rough and tough" older farm kids, by God - they were going to show this one-armed teacher who was boss. I can still see my grandpa laugh at the memory: "This teacher walked in and must have sensed the older kids were up to something. He didn't say a word - just walked to the front of the room, reached into his bag, and pulled out a pistol. He laid it on his desk, loudly, and that was that - we knew to behave."
Quite possibly the most remarkable aspect of schooling in the 1930s is that classroom discipline did not stop at the school gate - it followed the students home. One story in particular was relayed to me, which typifies many of the testimonies I have heard about discipline in the one-room schoolhouse:
"I was supposed to stay after class for doing something wrong - I don't remember what. Anyway I skipped out; I didn't stay after like I was supposed to. I got home and bragged about it to the hired man. My old man heard me in the barn, bragging about skipping out of [detention]. He never said a word; just took the lines out of one harness and gave me the fleece of my life. That was on a Friday; by Monday I figured he would have forgotten. No such luck! Monday morning we got in the truck, my dad marched me into school and made me apologize to the teacher. And [Dad] said, 'If he ever gives you any trouble again I want to know about it!' But, that was when the parents supported the teachers."
If anything, life during the 1930s served as a catalyst for sociability - kids grew up in large families and became accustomed to mingling with children of all ages. My friend Ken grew up in a family of eight brothers and one sister. He began kindergarten at 4 years of age, and was instantly exposed to fellow classmates, some of whom were "16 and 17 years old." As he recalls, "It was an experience - you learned to do without."
Class lessons were taught in a very communal manner in the one-room schoolhouse. Although my grandpa had his own globe for learning geography, I have heard several people refer to a "fairly sizable globe" that would lower from the ceiling, which the entire class would gather around. Textbooks were scarce, and newspapers were utilized in concordance with the globe, so that kids could place worldly items on the map.
It is no secret that children learn at different levels; some grasp material quickly while others need reviews. The one-room schoolhouse compensated for this, since fast-learning students were exposed to upper-level lessons, while a population of younger kids were always studying beginner material. According to Daryl, it did not matter if someone had to repeat a grade; it certainly did not invite ridicule. In fact, some kids were still attending eighth grade at age 17 - everyone's needs were different, whether it be farm-related or not.
During the early part of the twentieth century, as a grade-schooler it was perfectly acceptable to miss school because of farm work. The farm kept kids away from school more than severe weather; America then was very much an agricultural society.
Tune in next week.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes
a weekly column for Friday editions of
the Times. He can be reached
at dwegs@tds.net.
For my grandparents' generation, the notion of snow make-up days would have been as foreign as an iPod. My Uncle Daryl recalls walking "one mile and a tenth" to school on days that were so cold "you'd freeze to death if you stood still." My Aunt Marie remembers one day of her childhood that inclement weather forced her to stay home, and my friend Ken recalls that "severe weather" simply meant he got a ride for the two-mile journey.
Many of my grandparents' generation were the product of the one-room schoolhouse, where one teacher taught all subjects to eight grades of up to 30 children. Here is where the three "R's" were stressed - reading, writing and arithmetic. It was through endless lessons on penmanship that my grandmother developed her signature style of writing that is so synonymous with her age bracket. It was in this one-room schoolhouse that my grandfather learned geography on a small steel globe, which survives to this day - it is my most precious belonging. At a height of no more than 10 inches, this globe sat on my grandfather's grade school desk more than seven decades ago. It is remarkably practical, complete with longitude, latitude, national boundaries and capital cities, geographical landmarks, distance in miles between major world cities, and even denotes magnetic variation. It was made in the USA at a time when Iran did not exist. What a wonderful world it must have been.
This globe is the only physical link I have with the one-room schoolhouse of yesteryear, making the stories told by my friends that much more valuable. One would think, that with up to 30 kids of all grades in one room, disorder would ensue. You couldn't have been more wrong.
Daryl remembers discipline: "You'd see [the teacher] look up at the wall at the clock, and if she couldn't hear that son of a [gun] ticking, boy, there was going to be something. ... With 28 kids in that room, we were quiet as a mouse."
Before he passed away, my grandfather relayed to me an even more colorful story regarding his grade school career. Grandpa described 15- and 16-year olds still trying to pass eighth grade - they had missed too many lessons due to farm obligations to graduate. A certain teacher educated my grandfather's class, and this particular teacher only had one arm. Since the class consisted of some "rough and tough" older farm kids, by God - they were going to show this one-armed teacher who was boss. I can still see my grandpa laugh at the memory: "This teacher walked in and must have sensed the older kids were up to something. He didn't say a word - just walked to the front of the room, reached into his bag, and pulled out a pistol. He laid it on his desk, loudly, and that was that - we knew to behave."
Quite possibly the most remarkable aspect of schooling in the 1930s is that classroom discipline did not stop at the school gate - it followed the students home. One story in particular was relayed to me, which typifies many of the testimonies I have heard about discipline in the one-room schoolhouse:
"I was supposed to stay after class for doing something wrong - I don't remember what. Anyway I skipped out; I didn't stay after like I was supposed to. I got home and bragged about it to the hired man. My old man heard me in the barn, bragging about skipping out of [detention]. He never said a word; just took the lines out of one harness and gave me the fleece of my life. That was on a Friday; by Monday I figured he would have forgotten. No such luck! Monday morning we got in the truck, my dad marched me into school and made me apologize to the teacher. And [Dad] said, 'If he ever gives you any trouble again I want to know about it!' But, that was when the parents supported the teachers."
If anything, life during the 1930s served as a catalyst for sociability - kids grew up in large families and became accustomed to mingling with children of all ages. My friend Ken grew up in a family of eight brothers and one sister. He began kindergarten at 4 years of age, and was instantly exposed to fellow classmates, some of whom were "16 and 17 years old." As he recalls, "It was an experience - you learned to do without."
Class lessons were taught in a very communal manner in the one-room schoolhouse. Although my grandpa had his own globe for learning geography, I have heard several people refer to a "fairly sizable globe" that would lower from the ceiling, which the entire class would gather around. Textbooks were scarce, and newspapers were utilized in concordance with the globe, so that kids could place worldly items on the map.
It is no secret that children learn at different levels; some grasp material quickly while others need reviews. The one-room schoolhouse compensated for this, since fast-learning students were exposed to upper-level lessons, while a population of younger kids were always studying beginner material. According to Daryl, it did not matter if someone had to repeat a grade; it certainly did not invite ridicule. In fact, some kids were still attending eighth grade at age 17 - everyone's needs were different, whether it be farm-related or not.
During the early part of the twentieth century, as a grade-schooler it was perfectly acceptable to miss school because of farm work. The farm kept kids away from school more than severe weather; America then was very much an agricultural society.
Tune in next week.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes
a weekly column for Friday editions of
the Times. He can be reached
at dwegs@tds.net.
