Sit Down Steven

There was a boy named Stevie in our class and he was annoying but I generally liked him. He was super nice. The classic example of the class ADD pain in the ass though. He used to terrorize our second grade teacher because he would always get up during lessons and run wild around the room. He served as the constant class interruption with his behavior problem. It was great.

One day Mrs. Sasha who is like this 5 foot little bitty just lost it. She always was so calm and then all the sudden she just belts her voice like she is ten feet tall, “SIT DOWN, William.”

And we were just second graders but we all looked at each other like ‘holy shit’ with these little grins and Stevie cried. That was why I liked him as a person, because he would always show his emotional side. He was not like the other boys. He was sensitive. He did not make fun of me or ask me if I was related to Anne Frank which was a common question I received from one of my “Mc” classmates. I did not receive this question in second grade. We were two young to be covering the Nazi invasion. But as we entered the later grades-7th grade…I would be walking in the gym line and the “Mc” would be like “Just admit it, Courtney…you’re related to Anne Frank.”

I would go home and get so upset about it. I was a gawky, skinny girl and one of the only Iti’s in the class. Being ‘Jewish looking’ in the Catholic Irish community felt like the Scarlet letter. Dirty. I was always so proud of being Sicilian when I was little, almost like I didn’t realize all the adults were not drinking lemonade. I wore this little Sicily pendant around my neck. My grandfather gave it to me. PROUD. Proud as hell to be Italian. But then as I matured and students started to hook up and I gave my Sicily back to my grandfather. Sicily did not get first kisses at St. Regis.

Anyways, Mrs. Sasha comforted Stevie after she shouted him out like a beagle digging out of the yard. She hugged him for awhile as he cried. Told him to be a ‘good boy’. She is one of my favorite teachers. Firm but not cold-hearted. Second grade style.

Second grade style rules-best grade ever. I went to school a lot in second grade. Prior to this grade, my little speech problem turned into a big reading and writing problem. Practically illiterate-I could not learn and could not be placed in a reading group. My mom put me in an extensive tutoring boot camp all summer at this teacher’s house on a golf course. She was a gentle teacher. By the time second grade rolled around-I was in honors reading. I got the luxury of leaving my class to join an accelerated class next door. I was the shit. My confidence - way up….second grade ruled. I barely cried once.