I'm going to steal an idea from planetdan, as I am not feeling very creative. He wrote about memories of all of his teachers. This caused a flood of memories about the teacher that still strikes fear into my heart to this very day.
I cried almost every day of first grade because Sister C was so mean... until my mom bribed me with a Sean Cassidy album. The most traumatic moment was when she scruntched my ear, my poor little innocent six-year-old ear for goodness sakes, because I was tapping my bookmark as I was reading. She also dumped my desk upsidedown on several occasions because it was so messy. Then when we were making shamrock stickers, and I accidentally crumpled up the shamrock instead of the scrap pieces, she derided me in front of the class yelling, "What kind of an Irishman are you?" Seriously!!!Who says that to a six-year-old? I remember her smiling at me once, however. She made a joke that only she understood, when she pulled Kaz and I out of line and said "Carol...O'Connor...Carol...O'Connor" in a very Letterman "Uma...Oprah" kind of way. She was a mean, ornery lady, and Sean's dreamy eyes and the Do-Run-Run was poor compensation for her sadistic ways.
I cried almost every day of first grade because Sister C was so mean... until my mom bribed me with a Sean Cassidy album. The most traumatic moment was when she scruntched my ear, my poor little innocent six-year-old ear for goodness sakes, because I was tapping my bookmark as I was reading. She also dumped my desk upsidedown on several occasions because it was so messy. Then when we were making shamrock stickers, and I accidentally crumpled up the shamrock instead of the scrap pieces, she derided me in front of the class yelling, "What kind of an Irishman are you?" Seriously!!!Who says that to a six-year-old? I remember her smiling at me once, however. She made a joke that only she understood, when she pulled Kaz and I out of line and said "Carol...O'Connor...Carol...O'Connor" in a very Letterman "Uma...Oprah" kind of way. She was a mean, ornery lady, and Sean's dreamy eyes and the Do-Run-Run was poor compensation for her sadistic ways.
posted by Kathleen Ryan at 12:51 AM
1 Comments:
You remember that song "They don't make nun names like they used to"?
Thank goodness that they don't make nuns like that anymore. She was a meany, somehow I skirted her evil abuse when I had her.
I wonder what made her so mean. That tight rap around headgear surely did not help her disposition.
So sorry you had to deal with her at such a young age. People that pick on those that can not defend themselves are the worst.
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