Some Things Require Repetition

I Liked to Talk

When I entered second grade in 1966-67, our classes were what educators refer to as tracked. Mrs. Myers, my first grade teacher, must have thought I was up for it and I was placed in the advanced classroom. At Normal Park there were three leveled classes in second grade. Mrs. Painter was my teacher. She was stern and not very patient. I was precocious and not particularly interested in the lesson of the day. As I recall, I would end up in the office regularly. As fifth of six at home I had learned to speak up for myself. I thought I had to do this at school as well. I later learned that my family has a long line of boys who are auditory learners.

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I don’t recall feeling particularly concerned about reading but getting those

books in the mail were a big deal.

The Grand Conspiracy

As the fall progressed, I noticed that I was being introduced to a variety of adults who would take me out of the classroom to do numerous activities that involved reading. At home my mother, bless her heart, was trying to get me to read to her as she completed chores around the house. I was clueless as to the importance of this activity. My parents also got me a subscription of “I Can Read” books featuring children’s classics including Dr. Seuss. I don’t recall feeling particularly concerned about reading but getting those books in the mail was a big deal.

Unlike first grade, I was less interested in schoolwork and doubt I completed many assignments. My brother was a freshman football player at the University of Tennessee, and I naturally assumed that to be where I was headed. I also loved the outdoors and played in the woods around my house. School did not seem so important.

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I thought I knew what I needed to know.

Unbeknownst to me at the time the adults, my parents, teachers, and the principal, were conspiring through regular discussions about my lack of attention and progress. I seem to remember that I didn’t feel left behind in the class. We often had spelling and math competitions where we would move up the line after a correct answer. I was competitive by nature and didn’t hesitate to get answers and move up the line against students who were perceived as brighter. I thought I knew what I needed to know.

Who Needs Words When Drawing Will Do

Around the beginning of the second semester, I was moved out of the advanced class and put in the class of lowest achievers. All I remember from that class is that I had Mrs. Jones, who I remember liking, and don’t remember ever being sent to the office. Come to think of it, this was my first encounter with small groups as a strategy for helping latent readers. I simply remember drawing elaborate war scenes all around my paper every day, I had become enamored with reruns of the TV series Combat after getting home from school, and it, along with my brother’s exploits on the gridiron became the inspiration for drawing. I won a school wide art contest that spring which encouraged me to continue the practice. Mom encouraged my interest in drawing and got me drawing pads and coloring books. I loved to work with my hands. I doubt I finished one school assignment second semester.

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I doubt I finished one school assignment second semester.

My Dad was the Rector at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, a large downtown church. St. Paul’s was my second home, and I was full of myself there. It must have been the end of May or Early June, but I can remember having a conversation with friends in Sunday School talking about the likelihood of passing to third grade. Being the three-year school veteran that I was I naturally assumed that I would never fail. It didn’t matter whether I did my work. I recall being quite cocky during that conversation.

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I remember a fellow student told me it said second and that it meant I

was going to repeat second grade.

The next week was the last in school. On the last day, as was custom, we all received our report cards. I had learned to read the word promoted from my previous years. All my classmates were getting their report cards which said just that. When I received mine, it said “second.” I wasn’t familiar with the word as written. I was confused. I remember a fellow student told me it said second and that it meant I was going to repeat second grade. I was shocked and distraught.

Second Grade…Again

It turns out that there was quite a bit of adult scheming going on my initial second-grade year. All those adults who had me do reading exercises outside the classroom were trying to understand why I couldn’t read. Meanwhile, Mom was meeting with the teachers and principal while insisting that I repeat second grade. This was not a regular practice in the 1960s, but her logic was that I had a late birthday, July 29th, and was among the youngest in my class. She was convinced I was smarter than my schoolwork indicated, and she later told me Mr. Reece, the principal I visited on a regular basis that year, acknowledged that he and I had very insightful conversations. He must have enjoyed my company. Mom later told me that she felt the school never would have agreed to hold me back if I hadn’t been the Reverend John Bonner’s son.

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She was convinced I was smarter than my schoolwork indicated, and she later

told me Mr. Reece, the principal I visited on a regular basis that. year,

acknowledged that he and I had very insightful conversations.

Not Her Again

So here I was, back in second grade. I later found out that the arrangement was not only for me to be held back, but for me to be put back in the top class. I don’t know how Mom pulled that off. That meant I was to have Mrs. Painter again. I am sure she was ecstatic. Possibly the most significant part of this year was that I would develop lifelong friendships. I don’t recall doing significantly better in the class, but I do remember being aware of the chapter books my friends were reading. When we went to the library I would not be out done, and I checked out the same books. The All About books were a particular favorite, especially the ones covering Dinosaurs. My friends could read fast, so I pretended to read just as fast and check out new books at the same rate as they did. I remember being particularly enamored with the book Born Free about a lioness cub who was raised by a ranger in a preserve in Africa and then released back into the wild. The movie was being played on TV at the time. It was a challenging book for my age group, but I recall understanding the basic plot and got the rest from the movie.

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Many of my peers had a keener intellect, and I believe this encouraged my

desire to be successful in school.

This was the first time I befriended peers who valued success in the classroom. As I wrote earlier, I was somewhat competitive and as we matriculated through school I would not be out done. Many of my peers had a keener intellect, and I believe this encouraged my desire to be successful in school. This intellectual awareness was not an instant process. My priorities still focused on sports, the outdoors, and drawing. Yet as I grew, I began to better understand my interest in learning. Second grade, the second time, set the stage.

An Introduction to Global Thinking

The world was becoming bigger for me. My first memory about the news was at this time. My family was having dinner at the mayor’s house. Two of my siblings and I were playing in the den while adults talked in the dining room. Suddenly a bulletin came on the TV. Martin Luther King had been shot. I didn’t know who he was, but Hannah, five years my senior jumped up and burst into the dining room to tell the adults. I don’t recall, but I am sure we immediately went home, and Dad probably went downtown to help develop strategies to keep the peace the next day.

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I don’t think I got two dribbles in when Mom leaned her head out of her

bedroom window and told me to come in that instant.

The next morning, we all went to school as normal but immediately returned home. When the carpool was complete, I did what I often would do and went out back to shoot basketball. I don’t think I got two dribbles in when Mom leaned her head out of her bedroom window and told me to come in that instant. She must have indicated that it was not safe to be outside, because I remember arguing that our backyard was woods, and nobody would be around.

I didn’t understand at the time that my father was deeply involved in civil rights negotiations in Chattanooga. He was given tremendous credit for keeping the peace in the city in. the 1960s. This created some tension at home that I noticed but didn’t yet understand. Mom would periodically yell at Dad when he got home after dark. I worried about them but didn’t understand that Mom was simply scared. Later I would learn from Hannah that the morning after Dr. King was shot, some of her classmates would come up to her and say our family was next. The tension in Chattanooga remained and now I began to see it.

New Friends

It was appropriate that my first year in organized little league baseball was between second and third grade. It was my first encounter with African American peers. Some of them were stellar athletes who hit and threw the ball far better than I. It didn’t bother me that they were on my team or getting more playing time. I was still learning to hit, catch, and throw while they frequently hit home runs.

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It turns out that four more years with them helped prepare me for a meaningful

transition from an all-white elementary school to an

integrated junior high school.

My only interaction with African Americans at that time was Arlee, our maid, and other servants who tended to the yard. I loved Arlee but she was not a peer competing for my spot on a baseball team. I recall getting along fine with my teammates. It turns out that four more years with them helped prepare me for a meaningful transition from an all-white elementary school to an integrated junior high school. This experience would also act as motivation toward my vocation.

A Principal and a Dad

My first year as a principal was also my first as an educator in elementary school, Myers Park Traditional. My wife and I were having academic challenges with our son, Alec, in first grade similar to what my mother described of me. At this point there were none of the behavioral tendencies I displayed at his age, but we decided it would be a good idea to move my son with me to the school I was assigned. One day as I monitored the halls, I looked through the door window in his classroom. There he was flipping a pencil and looking inside his desk while the other students worked dutifully on their classwork. When I got home, I chuckled and told my wife that she was raising her husband. I don’t think she found that amusing.

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When I got home, I chuckled and told my wife that she was raising her husband.

I don’t think she found that amusing.

Fortunately, Alec had a wonderful teacher who had a substantial pedagogical tool kit. She set up activities for Alec that limited distractions and as time went on, he began to experience more success with class assignments. There were learning deficits that, unlike me, could not be chalked up to immaturity. Alec’s processing speed was very slow. Alec understood most concepts quite easily, but, getting them on paper was a struggle. This did not improve as the year progressed, so it was determined that he would have an Individual Education Plan as a Special Education student. Such an option was not available to me, and I am thankful that the teaching strategies of my elementary time allowed me to grow toward learning.

A Different Strategy Required

As I wrote earlier, I think the academic prowess of my peers had an impact on my priorities. Although Alec and I were both latent readers, easily distracted, and auditory learners, his processing challenge kept him from performing at his intellectual level with writing. His teachers’ excellence got him going in the right direction, but he needed more support.

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His teachers’ excellence got him going in the right direction, but he needed

more support.

His first two years in special ed he was clueless that this is why he had another teacher in his classroom during reading. The special ed teacher did a great job making his environment feel normal. He spent very little of his week with her outside of the classroom. His class experience was mostly like his peers. He got an award at the end of the year for his improvement and was recognized by his peers as a future writer, which was ironic given that was his learning disability.

Social Degradation

As my time as an elementary principal progressed, I encountered a disturbing trend. Anti-social behaviors such as bullying, and defiance became more prevalent in the early grade levels. As an assistant principal in two middle schools, I had become familiar with “mean girl” behavior where girls went to great lengths to exert power and intimidation over others. This type of behavior was showing up earlier every year to the point where we were implementing behavioral and counseling strategies to help girls relieve territorial stressors as early as second grade. This behavior could not be dismissed as one class with a particular social personality. No, we were seeing this every year.

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This behavior could not be dismissed as one class with a particular social

personality. No, we were seeing this every year.

Many of my staff and principal colleagues saw this as the result of students losing developmentally appropriate opportunities for free play due to the hyper focus placed on literacy. The learning environment had become so controlled through time on task priorities that students were not able to experience normal socialization with peers. In some ways, students were isolated even though more and more class work was done in group settings. Such learning activity was highly controlled with little opportunity of recognized reward for anything beyond academic goals.

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The learning environment had become so controlled through time on task

priorities that students were not able to experience normal socialization with peers.

School was now stressful, and it was showing in daily student behavior. I like to make fun of my encounters with my principal during my time in elementary school, but those behavioral struggles were due to risk taking not power or manipulation. We now see students who see power as a natural desire among peer groups that we might have seen in the past just with adults. The difference is that 7 year old’s don’t have the coping skills to navigate such personal interplay which often results in emotional and, at times, physical harm.

The Bigger Picture

Second Grade, as with first, is another step in the rung of social and intellectual complexity. I was fortunate to be exposed to serious students early as this moved me toward later success in the classroom and among friends. My experience as a principal showed me that our specificity toward task at the expense of social growth was making student success beyond the classroom overly dependent on networks provided by social status.

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Healthy development requires opportunities for children to see the value of

academic pursuit through community rather than just written content.

The decrease of activities like recess and tightly organized after school planning reduces the cognitive benefits of free play. Intellectual capacity is not just dependent on exposure to academic content but to social interaction motivated through exposure to others. Healthy development requires opportunities for children to see the value of academic pursuit through community rather than just written content. Second grade represented such an opportunity for me, and observations of my son’s struggles and the results of current discrete educational practice are evidence that we dismiss student interaction to the detriment of human endeavor.