Saturdays with Seniors: Sharon Knew it was Bad

Today’s blogger, Sharon Kramer.

I mentioned Sharon Kramer in Wednesday’s post — she is a graduate of the online Beth Finke Memoir Teacher MasterClass, and leads the Wednesday “Me, Myself and I” memoir-writing class on Zoom. Here she is now with a timely guest post about her first days of school back in 1945.

A Bad Start

by Sharon Kramer

In 1945 when I was ready to start kindergarten, I lived in a Chicago neighborhood that was secretly — and not so secretly — anti-Semitic. On my first day of school, an older boy called me a “dirty Jew.” I came home and cried. I had no idea what that meant but I knew it was bad.

The next day the same thing happened — with more voices. On the third day, I didn’t want to go to school. My mother kept me home for the rest of the year.

Kindergarten was no treasure for today’s guest blogger.

So, I never had the kindergarten experience, getting along with other kids, sharing paints, sitting in a circle. We moved to a different neighborhood, and when my mother tried to register me for 1st grade, she was told I wasn’t eligible because I had no kindergarten experience. I was put in a grade called 1C.

In 1946, the Chicago Public Schools had 1B’s for fall entrance, 1A’s for spring entrance and, I guess, 1C’s were designated as the “we don’t know where to put this kid so let’s put him in 1C” class. The 1C class at Peterson School was a small windowless room in the basement, next to the janitor’s closet. There were 12 boys and me. The boys were placed there because they disrupted the kindergarten class or couldn’t get along with others or refused to follow instructions. Miss Einhorn was the teacher. My desk was in the middle of the room, and I did my best to stay inconspicuous and said nothing the whole time I was there. I don’t recall any learning taking place. The boys were wild forces of nature, jumping on desks or fighting over a pencil or talking back to poor Miss Einhorn. Imagine a room full of six and seven-year-old characters like Don Rickles, Eddie Murphy and Richard Simmons all craving attention at the same time! The principal was often called to drag someone to his office or call a mother.

One day, Miss Einhorn, bless her heart, called my mother and told her to get me out of 1C. My mother marched to the principal’s office and demanded that I be put in a different class.

I was.

I would like to report that I thrived in 1B. Truth is, I missed the excitement of 1C. Now I sat near girls with folded hands and boys who stayed in their seats. The 1B classroom had windows, it was on the first floor, but it was a bit boring, even though we learned stuff.

The stigma of 1C stayed with me. I felt overwhelmed in a school setting and often just stared at what was going on around me instead of participating. 1C taught me that the safest route in life is to become as invisible as possible. I’ve missed out on a lot of adventures because of this perception of the world.

An early experience has the potential of changing you forever or maybe not at all. We never know. Schools — are you listening?