5th and 6th Grade

Living in the country in Alturas had its good times and its not so good times. Going to school in Alturas was hard because you were thrown in together with the rough kids, who had failed a few grades and their parents worked the groves. They had learned to fight to get along. Our principal was also my 5th and 6th grade teacher. He needed to be fired but in the those days, you kept your mouth shut because he was in charge. I was a little overweight and in a strange time in my growing up years. The teacher/principal nicknamed me Fatso and that is what he called me when he asked me a question, asked me to come to the board to write or anytime.

When he left the room, he put one of the older girls in charge on name taking if any of us talked. We were to read or study or do our papers. Well my mouth just doesn't know how to be quiet. I think, if you got on his list for talking too much more than three times, you had to go to the office, and he had a wooden hand paddle and he gave you a swat on your behind. Sometimes, it would knock you out of his office, he hit so hard. I was upset but I didn't think there was anything you could do about it. 

One night, when I was taking a bath, mother saw these bruises on my behind. She was shocked. She asked what had happened. I told her the principal would hit you for talking too much. Well, the next morning, mother took me to school and we went to the principal's office. She told him if he ever touched me again, she was calling the Bartow police and calling the school board. He didn't hit me anymore, but he still called me Fatso. Of course, everyone liked that because then they could laugh at you. 

Those days, girls had lists of friends and lists of people in the class they didn't like. If they didn't like you, they would plan to fight you after school. Well, this crazy principal decided he would let the older girls who hated each other so bad, fight it out the last period at school. He let them go out back of the school and kick each others butt. One girl, got hurt real bad, and she ran all the way home. I couldn't believe he would set this up. There were some of the bad girls who had failed a couple of grades and were being to get too old for the kids in the 5th grade. There were good times too, but you had to put up with the bad times. In those days, you couldn't say how you felt very much. You just kept quiet. That principal finally got fired and went into Bartow to teach. Then they fired him too. Mr. Oster. He also would make girls come up and scratch his bawled head when it itched. He would throw something at you, a book or an eraser to get your attention, and then tell you to get up there and scratch his head. Sometimes, life isn't fair.