What is your fondest memory of Elementary School?

Red Rover in the playground.

First memories were being thrilled to be old enough to go to school! I liked school from the begining and they even gave us recess, to boot.

Unfortunately by about the 5th grade, recess became my 'major', and I was one of the usual suspects in the principals office when anything went wrong.

And I still graduated from high school, got a college degree, and masters credits.

Great article, ERich. Now I have the thrill of seeing my granddaughter go to 1st grade with the same enthusiasm I once had. Thanks for the memories.

My favorite memory of elementary school is learning to play the violin and going to see my first symphony concert. It made my hair stand up as I listened to it and I was astounded for the first time in my little life.

I always remember the floors at Washington Grammar School. They were oak and the janitor used a wonderful sweet smelling oil on them that I always called "Banana Oil" because that's what the oil smelled like. The halls were long and the floors always had a shine to them.

I just remembered something I wrote about ten years ago while thinking about school.. I hope you don't mind if I post it here..

September

Can't you just feel the change in the air?
I love the changing of the seasons
Because it takes me back to my childhood.
Grammar School, a big old building with front steps.
Never allowed to use them unless it rained
And you were waiting for the school bus.
(Rain pouring down, waiting for the bus, talking to boy.
Books held snuggled to flat chest.
Button came loose, skirt fell off, making neat circle around feet.)

Inside the building, wooden floors, polished and shiny
Permeating the building with a sweet scent.
Have always thought of it as banana oil.
You could run and slide on that floor
If no teachers were around,
And the janitor had his back turned.

The basement, a girl's side and a boy's side.
We learned to folk-dance there,"heel, toe, heel, toe".
The only time the boys were allowed on the girl's side.

The annex was at the far end of the playground,
Probably because that was where the band practiced.
Patient music teacher, Mrs. Anderson.
I pretended to play the clarinet.
She wasn't fooled and let me stay in the band.
My brother could play the trumpet.
He knew how to read the music.
I pretended a lot of things.

A good feeling, this fond memory.
It makes me young again.
I loved grammar school.

The Library. Or, as we say in my neck of the woods, The Liberry.

My most vivid memory is not exactly a fond one but I remember it in Three Strip Technicolor to this day.

We were at recess playing on our ancient playground equipment. I was slinging around on the rotating metal disc having a most pleasant time when I looked up in time to see a true life adventure. Some kid had the bright idea to chunk an old D cell battery through time and space. It clocked another kid smack dab on the back of the head. He immediately began screaming bloody murder and racing off in a panic. A pack of us, intent on heroic action, took chase while he crossed lots. He was attired in a brown, black and mustard striped sweater, a pair of worn looking faded purple cords and had black Keds on his feet. He had one of those mil cut hair do's we sported back in the day and a huge bright crimson tail of spurting blood spewing from the back of his noggin as he ran for safety. I don't know, the thin cold grey sky, the red brick of the school house, the spew of gore, a gaggle of running, hollering miscreant children left a pretty good imprint on the ol memory banks.

He was fine and ended up with quite a bit of attention due to his bandaged pumpkin in the next few days. The young residivist who chunked the battery was never brought to justice. In my location even as chilren we were taught not to rat and no one did. I never did find out the identity of the the kid who chose to heave a battery on the yard.

Anyhow, it's a memory....of elementary school.....

E - we were very poor when I was a child. I remember my first grade teacher kept me after school one day and gave me a dress, slip etc that she had purchased for me. I felt so much gratitude for her and still do as I think back on it. She must have been a wonderful person to do that for a student.

I also remember the playground with the ball hanging from the pole (can't recall the name of it) where you hit it back and forth to each other or just by yourself.

In third grade we all made a bird book and for some reason that sticks in my mind. We had to draw the birds and then describe what kind they were and so on.

Fun memories.

Debbie Ball.

And glue. Mmmmm glue... (Or was that stuff paste?)

...4th grade twice...

I've really had to think about this one, ERich... I always liked school. I wasn't necessarily the sharpest tool in the shed, but I enjoyed school and loved my teachers.

I attended 7 different grade schools. We were always moving, or they were moving the school districts and I was suddenly on the edge of a new district. Whenever we moved, they wanted to put me back a grade, and Daddy wouldn't let them. I was a very small child for my age, and they thought that I was stupid, to match.

I guess one of my fondest memories is in second grade, when I learned how to add two digit numbers in one afternoon, and my teacher was visibly astonished. We hadn't learned that, yet, in KY, and we had moved to St. Louis, where they learned that in 1st grade. Well, the principle in St. Louis naturally assumed that I was slow and stupid because I was from KY. The principle wanted to put me back into 1st grade because I only weighed 30 pounds, and everyone else was bigger. They gave me a kindergarten desk because the regular desks were too big. My clothes were handmade by my great aunt and my grandmother, beautifully embroidered, (not store-boughten), and all the kids were making fun of me.

Anyway, the compromise was that I was to have to stay after school every day for six weeks to learn how to add two digit numbers, and if I didn't, then I had to go back and repeat 1st grade. And I caught on, immediately, in one afternoon, even the carry over. Don't ask me why! BUT, it was marvelous! Despite the fact that I was little and spoke with a southern accent, and had a baby desk, and wore funny clothes, I wasn't as stupid as they thought.

When we left St. Louis, my teacher cried to see me go, which was nice, because I really did love her. She gave me a lovely heart necklace, to wear my first day in the new school. Next, we moved to Kansas City, KS, and they had new math, and I had NO clue what was going on. To be honest, I have never caught on to math since...

My step daughter had new math, and my son has had new math, so all-in-all, I've had 4 new maths to deal with, and you know something? I miss Arithmetic. I could "do" arithmetic. Math throws me for a loop!

Playing with my friend Kelly in the sand box. She was my everything.

Going to my very first Birthday party with the sparkled tasseled hats and games, etc.

My best memory was in 6th grade. I was the first girl to become a patrol boy. My best friend, Steve, talked me into it. I was so proud to help the little kids cross the street. I had a badge and a shoulder strap to put it onto. The sad part was that my parents got divorced that year and we had to move to Fort Wayne. I cried my eyes out the night before I had to turn in my patrol badge. My mom went to school with me the next day. 6th grade was also my first male teacher. His name was Mr Orth. When my mom and I showed up, Mr Orth could see how upset I was to leave and told me he was leaving too, to become a priest. He played a guitar for us and I loved him very much. He also help make me a patrol girl.

I don't have any fond memories of elementary school. Just memories. I went to a very small school in TX and there were two grades for every teacher. My class had ten students and the next grade up only had four. I remember that our school was not air conditioned and it was very hot in August and very cold in January. In Junior High it was worse. We had to change class rooms and every time the bell rang you got to sit in another persons sweat and stink.

I thought of another time in 3rd grade, I think. We had a May concert, and I gor the lead part. The song was about a Fly marrying a bumble bee. I was the bumblebee. I can't even remember the boy's name.

Fiddle-dee-dee fiddle-dee-dee the fly has married the bumble bee. Said the Fly said he, " will you marry me and live with me sweet buble bee." Said the bee said she " I'll live under your wing and you'll never know that I carry a sting. fiddle-dee-dee fiddle-dee-dee the fly has married the bumblebee. LOL.

Not many good memories. I was little and liked math and science thus in an agrarian community I was the official punching bag. However, I do remember the week as sixth graders we went to a camp, stayed overnight, and learned all about nature/biology/astronomy/etc. . .

School pizza!!! the big thick square one from the '60's and '70's.

I WANT that recipe!!!