| Biographical Non-Fiction posted June 23, 2024 | Chapters: |
...24 25 -26- 27... 
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Early memories of my first year in school.
A chapter in the book At Home in Mississippi
School Days in the Forties
by BethShelby
Making friends in a small-town Mississippi school in the forties wasn’t a problem for most of us first graders. Unless you were a cry-baby, super shy, ate your boogers, or were an oddity in some other way, you were an accepted part of the group. I remember being hugged by one little girl who told me we were cousins. Neither of us could figure out how, at the time, but we later learned our grandfathers were half-brothers. All of us came from a time when large families were common, so there were dozens of ways to be related. I’m sure she wasn’t the only child in our class who was related to me in some way.
One of the new students didn’t start school with us on the first day. The teacher brought her into class and introduced her to us a week later. You would think first grade girls wouldn’t be fashion-conscious, but we knew what we liked. I have a feeling the boys were impressed as well. The way Shirley Sue’s mom had her dressed for the first day, made her acceptance guaranteed. Her blonde hair hung in ringlets, and her big blue eyes shone bright, as she stepped inside wearing a soft blue velvet dress with glittering sparkles. She could have been a princess. She wore black patent leather shoes like many of us wore only for Sunday School. We all wanted to be her best friend, but I was the one she chose.
Shirley Sue’s family wasn’t around long, much to our disappointment. Her father had met mine in the grocery store, and the day the family moved away, Dad brought home a surprise. Shirley Sue’s family would be living somewhere that didn’t take pets. She had told her dad she wanted her best friend to have her beautiful white Persian cat. Although it was sad to lose my best friend so quickly, Snowball became my first pet and was with us for many years. No one spayed cats in those days, so her DNA was passed on for many generations.
At recess time, the teachers soon stopped organizing games for us and left us to find ways to amuse ourselves. For the boys, the choice was playing ball. Most of the lower grade boys played softball during the two long recesses. After lunch, there was a short break where the choice activity was Frankenstein Monster, a game the boys invented, which involved chasing the girls. The movie showing at that time served as an inspiration. This led to a lot of screams and giggles.
As to the girl’s recess activity, someone suggested we should play house and went about assigning everyone roles. One of the larger girls was chosen for the mama and the baby was the tiniest girl in class. The girl who considers herself in charge declared she would be the father. The rest of us were sisters and brothers. You might say, we could pick our pronoun.
There were a few kids who simply didn’t fit into the school scene. It wasn’t their fault, but none of us had learned the art of being gracious and sensitive to their circumstances. This is one time in which I wish I could have a`do-over’ using a more mature brain and a dose of compassion. These children attended school only sporadically. They came because the law said they must, and they never learned enough to go past the lowest level.
These outsiders tended to be lanky and pale and were older than the rest of us. They came out of poverty. They were a part of a group, once referred to in Mississippi by the black population, as`po white trash’. Since our school was segregated, no black children attended. The girls wore tattered dresses which hung nearly to the ground. They usually were without shoes, even in winter. Their hair appeared to have never seen a comb, and some of their heads were shaved, likely to rid them of lice.
At recess, these sad children leaned against the brick wall, hanging their heads. We had to line up everywhere we went. Their place in line had large gaps. No one would stand near them. It was as if we feared their condition was contagious. In class, they sat in the back of the room, and the teachers simply acted as though they weren’t there. I often wondered how they might have fared in life with such an unpromising beginning. After they reached 14, they were no longer forced to attend school.
Another group of kids who were seldom in school were the gypsies. Gypsy families would move into our town and camp out on a vacant lot. The ladies would set up fortune telling booths, and the men would do temporary work for a few weeks. The children would come to school during the short time they remained in the area. These kids dressed better and usually didn’t appear to be shy. I remember thinking some of the gypsy boys were cute. Back then I had a weakness for the darker skin and dancing brown eyes.
After I had mastered the primary reading books, I developed a hunger for reading. Newton had a small library which was, at that time, inside the city courthouse. It was necessary to walk through the courtroom in order to find the door leading into the library. I assume Mom must have taken me there a time or two, but after that I went on my own. From the front door, one entered the main courtroom which was a large room with empty seats. Occasionally, a trial would be in progress. I found it interesting to stand outside the library door and watch for a while. Even today, I enjoy watching legal movies involving court cases.
Once inside the library, I would check out as many books as I could carry from the children’s section. The books had cards in a pocket in the back of them. The card had to be signed and left with the librarian until the book was returned. Most cards only had a few names, which likely meant the kids of Newton didn’t spend a lot of time reading. One name consistently appeared in many of the books. I got used to seeing someone named Jo Ann W. had checked out the book before me. At the time, I didn’t know anyone named Jo Ann, but even without knowing, I sensed she and I were in competition.
Jo Ann didn’t join our school until third grade, but it didn’t take the two of us long to realize we had met our competition. Both of us would spend the rest of our school days trying to outdo the other.
Making friends in a small-town Mississippi school in the forties wasn’t a problem for most of us first graders. Unless you were a cry-baby, super shy, ate your boogers, or were an oddity in some other way, you were an accepted part of the group. I remember being hugged by one little girl who told me we were cousins. Neither of us could figure out how, at the time, but we later learned our grandfathers were half-brothers. All of us came from a time when large families were common, so there were dozens of ways to be related. I’m sure she wasn’t the only child in our class who was related to me in some way.
One of the new students didn’t start school with us on the first day. The teacher brought her into class and introduced her to us a week later. You would think first grade girls wouldn’t be fashion-conscious, but we knew what we liked. I have a feeling the boys were impressed as well. The way Shirley Sue’s mom had her dressed for the first day, made her acceptance guaranteed. Her blonde hair hung in ringlets, and her big blue eyes shone bright, as she stepped inside wearing a soft blue velvet dress with glittering sparkles. She could have been a princess. She wore black patent leather shoes like many of us wore only for Sunday School. We all wanted to be her best friend, but I was the one she chose.
Shirley Sue’s family wasn’t around long, much to our disappointment. Her father had met mine in the grocery store, and the day the family moved away, Dad brought home a surprise. Shirley Sue’s family would be living somewhere that didn’t take pets. She had told her dad she wanted her best friend to have her beautiful white Persian cat. Although it was sad to lose my best friend so quickly, Snowball became my first pet and was with us for many years. No one spayed cats in those days, so her DNA was passed on for many generations.
At recess time, the teachers soon stopped organizing games for us and left us to find ways to amuse ourselves. For the boys, the choice was playing ball. Most of the lower grade boys played softball during the two long recesses. After lunch, there was a short break where the choice activity was Frankenstein Monster, a game the boys invented, which involved chasing the girls. The movie showing at that time served as an inspiration. This led to a lot of screams and giggles.
As to the girl’s recess activity, someone suggested we should play house and went about assigning everyone roles. One of the larger girls was chosen for the mama and the baby was the tiniest girl in class. The girl who considers herself in charge declared she would be the father. The rest of us were sisters and brothers. You might say, we could pick our pronoun.
There were a few kids who simply didn’t fit into the school scene. It wasn’t their fault, but none of us had learned the art of being gracious and sensitive to their circumstances. This is one time in which I wish I could have a`do-over’ using a more mature brain and a dose of compassion. These children attended school only sporadically. They came because the law said they must, and they never learned enough to go past the lowest level.
These outsiders tended to be lanky and pale and were older than the rest of us. They came out of poverty. They were a part of a group, once referred to in Mississippi by the black population, as`po white trash’. Since our school was segregated, no black children attended. The girls wore tattered dresses which hung nearly to the ground. They usually were without shoes, even in winter. Their hair appeared to have never seen a comb, and some of their heads were shaved, likely to rid them of lice.
At recess, these sad children leaned against the brick wall, hanging their heads. We had to line up everywhere we went. Their place in line had large gaps. No one would stand near them. It was as if we feared their condition was contagious. In class, they sat in the back of the room, and the teachers simply acted as though they weren’t there. I often wondered how they might have fared in life with such an unpromising beginning. After they reached 14, they were no longer forced to attend school.
Another group of kids who were seldom in school were the gypsies. Gypsy families would move into our town and camp out on a vacant lot. The ladies would set up fortune telling booths, and the men would do temporary work for a few weeks. The children would come to school during the short time they remained in the area. These kids dressed better and usually didn’t appear to be shy. I remember thinking some of the gypsy boys were cute. Back then I had a weakness for the darker skin and dancing brown eyes.
After I had mastered the primary reading books, I developed a hunger for reading. Newton had a small library which was, at that time, inside the city courthouse. It was necessary to walk through the courtroom in order to find the door leading into the library. I assume Mom must have taken me there a time or two, but after that I went on my own. From the front door, one entered the main courtroom which was a large room with empty seats. Occasionally, a trial would be in progress. I found it interesting to stand outside the library door and watch for a while. Even today, I enjoy watching legal movies involving court cases.
Once inside the library, I would check out as many books as I could carry from the children’s section. The books had cards in a pocket in the back of them. The card had to be signed and left with the librarian until the book was returned. Most cards only had a few names, which likely meant the kids of Newton didn’t spend a lot of time reading. One name consistently appeared in many of the books. I got used to seeing someone named Jo Ann W. had checked out the book before me. At the time, I didn’t know anyone named Jo Ann, but even without knowing, I sensed she and I were in competition.
Jo Ann didn’t join our school until third grade, but it didn’t take the two of us long to realize we had met our competition. Both of us would spend the rest of our school days trying to outdo the other.
 Recognized |
This will be a chapter in the book about my life in Mississippi in the 40's and 50's.
This chapter is memories of friends, games, we played and children who did fit in with other first graders.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. This chapter is memories of friends, games, we played and children who did fit in with other first graders.
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