Third Grade
Third Grade
Third grade was a big one. Lots of learnings. They started teaching cursive in this grade, I think. I wasn’t very good, but when I review my handwriting from the time, it was not really all that bad compared to my writing now. 20+ years of keyboarding will do that to a man. My teacher was named Sister Eustasia. Actually, i think her name was Sister Mary Eustasia. As I remember it, all nuns took on the name “Mary” to be closer to Our Lord and Savior. They wore wedding rings on their left hand and were thought to be “brides of franken-.. er Christ”. Oh and they took vows of chastity. What kind of husband is that, anyways? I think that this is a much more workable solution. But I digress. Sr. Eustasia hated me, I think. Ok, i’m sure she “loved” me. When I misbehaved, a rerrangement of the desks was in order. Everyone was in nice orderly rows, except my desk was right next to hers, touching it, jammed up against it, edge to edge, so she could keep an eye on me. I remember spending a bunch of the year like this. As I said,we were suppoed to learn cursive. In my school, a favorite punishment for misbehaving was to have the kid write something some number of times, whether on the blackboard or on paper (think Bart at the beginning of The Simpsons. DO they still do that now?) and i remember having to redo one such assignment because I had done it in printing instead of cursive.