Write a post about your third grade teacher.
My third grade teacher was Miss Beam. She was generally a sweet lady and wasn't a hundred years old like some of the other teachers. She had pouffy hair, about shoulder length and it was not-quite-blond. I think it is what they used to call "frosted". It seems that she always wore dresses, but maybe this was before female teachers were allowed to wear pants. It was the 1973-1974 school year in Anderson, South Carolina. I don't remember very much about her other than that we had "contracts" in her classroom. Basically, it was a bunch of worksheets stapled together that we had to complete. We would line up at her desk to turn these in to her, waiting at her side while she looked them over.
One day, we were lined up to turn in our contracts and I had to go to the bathroom something fierce. I have had bladder problems my entire life. I went to the front of the line and asked if I could go to the bathroom. The answer was that I had to go back into the line and wait my turn. I went to the back of the line and I was dancing around big-time. I really, really had to go. The other kids were laughing at me and when it was my turn, I shot out of the classroom like nobody's business. I'm surprised that I made it to the bathroom at all without unleashing a flood in the hallway. This led to a very embarrassing episode one day in the lunchroom. It was my job to go around and pick up the used milk cartons from my classmates and get them to the trash. Again, I had to go to the bathroom. I knew at this point that there was no point in asking if I could go; the answer was going to be no anyway. So, I didn't ask. I went about collecting the milk cartons and couldn't hold it in anymore. Mother Nature let go right there beside the lunch table, with the other kids laughing and the teacher asking me why I didn't ask to go to the bathroom.
Good grief!
My mama's response to this was that the next time a teacher told me no about going to the bathroom, I should ask to sit on their lap and just let nature take its course there. Then, they'd get the message!
She also told me not to take no for an answer, to go anyway. It was cruel of them not to let me go, especially after they were informed of my health issues. Although it was a battle that I constantly fought even as high up as high school, thankfully, I never wet myself in front of the classroom again.
OK, this post was supposed to be about Miss Beam, not my bladder, but there you have it!
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