Second grade. Mrs. Gombocz’s class. A jumble of memories, such as Mrs. Gombocz’s red hair. An arithmetic workbook. The guinea pig kept in the back of the room that certain kids got to take home on long weekends to watch. And this scene: one day I asked whether I could come back to the classroom after lunch rather than going out to recess when I was finished eating. Already I knew I was somehow different, didn’t fit in on the playground, would ruin games like kick ball because there always seemed to be rules that no one had taught me. And her response: to take my time eating so I didn’t have to go out to recess.
That Christmas she put up a small tree in the classroom, and filled it with brightly painted ceramic ornaments. There was a school holiday assembly where the different grades sang songs on the all purpose room stage. Back in the classroom the homeroom mothers were handling the refreshments for our holiday party. The Star Wars Ewok Adventure movie (those creepy giant spiders!) played on the TV where we often watched PBS shows like The Write Channel (“Palabra Jot!”), the creepy Letter People, and Readlong with Boot, Mister Bones and Granny. And before we left for Christmas break, each of us got to select one of those ceramic ornaments to take home for our own tree. This was my choice: little mouse in his onesie, sliding down a candle.
