First grade was my first year of school. My younger sister Elizabeth was the first to go to Kindergarden. At Wapella grade school the first grade classroom was in the "new" wing. It is part of the building that was kept as a community center after the building was torn down. There were two classrooms in the wing. Ms. Falley and Mrs. Clark's. Mrs. Clark was a contrast to Ms. Falley. She wore very conservative clothes. She pulled her hair back. When I heard her, she spoke is strong strict tones. The class had been introduced to Mrs. Clark on the first day of school. I was afraid of her, more because I didn't know her, because she was a lovely lady.
Growing up in a large family I knew the importance of getting places quickly. The last name Karr put me smack in the middle of the line. In first grade it seemed we were lining up all the time. I was always anxious about where we were going. I constantly talking. I wanted to follow rules, and with the exception of talking I did what I was told. My mother rarely had to discipline me because I was always afraid of what might happen.
One day in the fall we were lining up in the hallway to go out for a recess before the bus arrived to take us home. I was my usual self and was asking Tina Johnson where we were going. Mrs Clarks class was joining us. Mrs. Clark saw me talking and called me over. She told me that I needed to learn to stand quietly when in line. She asked me to follow her to her room. The room was small and had a cloak room at the back of the room. This large closet with a door at each end was were children would hang there coats and leave there lunch buckets. At first Ms. Clark had me stand by the door while she worked at her desk. I squirmed around so she walked me to the cloak room. She had me step up on the bench and she hooked my collar on a coat hook. She told me that I was to stay put and that I was not to make a sound. I did as I was told. I stood there and stood there and stood there. I counted nail holes. I watch a spider on the wall. Every time I started to squirm I could hear Ms. Clarks words inside my head and I'd stand still. I'm sure I could have unhooked myself but the longer I stood the worse my imagination got me thinking that bad things would happen.
The busses left and some time later when the others 13 children arrive home without me my mother got concerned. She drove to Wapella and found the school locked. She was finally able to get a janitor to let her in the building. She walked down the hallway to my classroom calling my name and I answered. I don't remember if I teacher was with her.
I didn't expect any sympathy from my mother and I didn't receive any. She told me to march right out to the car. The station wagon was full on family. I had to climb over the back seat to the area for the "little kids". There wasn't a lot said about the incident.
Some time later when I was sharing with my older sister Dottie that I was afraid of Ms. Clark. My mother told me that Dorothy Clark was my god-mother and that her son John was my
god-father. I was outraged and screamed "did you run out of people to ask by the time I was born" She said no that Ms. Clark was a good friend and good teacher. I was born early with small birth weight. I was baptised shortly after my birth.
Of course I did learn to love Ms. Clark. She had retired before I got to high school and helped
out with grade school classes, but I would stop by her house for tea every so often and tell her
about my dream of being a teacher. She would share many stories of her early years of teaching. I loved her stories.
I believe She taught her entire career on a two year certificate, which was all that was required when she started teaching. She was such a lovely lady. I got a card from her, when I graduated with a BS in Business Education. When I got my masters in Special Education, I went by Dorothy's and she hugged me and said she thought I would make a wonderful elementary teacher. After a long conversation I left ready to take on the world. Dorothy had a wonderful way of letting you feel god love in very simple ways. She would share her "blessing" and I knew that teacher was a way I could change children's lives.
That was the first time I felt teaching was a calling from God.
I don't ever remember having a conversation with Dorothy's son
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