My earliest memories began at East School on Main Street, Batavia. It was kindergarten, and I only remember it had a wooden playhouse in the classroom.
We had rest time on the floor every day, and it was a half-day session.
I began school at the new John Kennedy School on Vine Street in 1955 in first grade. I attended John Kennedy School until third grade. I still remember the song “This Is Our School, John Kennedy, the Colors Gold and Blue.” John Kennedy’s new school was in our back yard, so we could walk through the field and get to school. My youngest brother, John, remembered that route because he decided to walk home on his first day in kindergarten. I can’t imagine his teacher looking for him!
The following school I attended was St. Joseph’s Catholic School. I entered there in fourth grade. That was the year I met my best friend, Cathy.
We all have so many memories of the nuns in the Catholic school. My memories are no different. The one thing I remember coming from a family of six was that it was hard to follow my brother Sam; we were nothing alike, and the nuns couldn’t wait to emphasize that. I remember my teacher telling me to stop talking; evidently, I didn’t, so she made me stand in the back of the room in a small corner. I was on the side of the school that faced a group of trees. I was fine. I watched a bird build a nest on one of the branches; it was much more interesting than what Sister Kathleen was teaching. When the principal entered the room, we all had to stand up and say good morning, Sister Mary Evangelist!
I also know that the year "Ben Casey" and "Dr. Kildare" were popular television shows. Sister Mary Pius was not happy with me again. I had a picture of Ben Casey taped to the inside of my desk. When I opened my desk, his picture was in my face. Unfortunately, Sister saw me looking at the picture and slammed my desktop down. My best friend liked Dr. Kildare but was smart enough not to flaunt his picture. I can honestly say that there were times you feared the wrath of your teacher.
Does anyone remember what we were told about wearing patent leather shoes?
One year, Sister Estelle asked me to come to the front of the room. She told the class to look at my uniform. I was wearing some of my lunch! It was a little embarrassing. I told my husband about this, and he burst out laughing because whenever we went out to eat, and I had spaghetti sauce, I would always come home wearing it.
Another thing I remember is that my youngest sister had a problem staying in her seat, so to help her remember, the nun tied her to her chair. I remember my father saying if you have a problem with my child, you have my permission to discipline them. He also stated that when we got home, he would discipline us. This time was different; he contacted her teacher and said not to tie his child to a chair. What if there was a fire? She was never tied to her chair again, but I can’t guarantee she did not continue to get out of her seat.
You can’t forget the mission babies. The Sisters would ask us if we had any lunch money change we could donate to the missions. We could pick a name when we had earned enough money to help a mission baby. I was so excited the day they named the mission baby Anne.
The next chapter of my education was at Notre Dame High School. Again, I was compared to my brother, an excellent student. I do know my conduct mark was always lower than his 99%. The day I wanted to see if I could fit into a locker in our locker room was funny. I could, but Sister Edward Ann, Dean of Students, stood there when the locker door opened. She did not think that was funny.
You can’t forget the beautiful navy blue uniform, long-sleeved white blouse, and the bolero! They were so attractive, especially to someone who weighed barely 100 pounds.
I went on to college and graduated in 1972 with a BS in Education. I was a teacher, and my first job was at Wolcott Street School in Le Roy. I loved my time there as a third grade teacher. I knew what kind of teacher I wanted to be. The most important thing I knew I would do was to create an atmosphere where children felt safe and respected, and I would provide them with an atmosphere for learning and always knowing they were loved.
This is my disclaimer for my early years: I’m 74, so my memories might be fuzzy.
