Oh, school. How I do not miss you. Don’t get me wrong, there were things I liked about it, but it took me a long time to realize that I liked school because I thought I was supposed to. It didn’t mean I actually did. I was just too much of a goody goody at the time to do anything different.
Partially I suffered various types of bullying as a kid, and I put a lot of pressure on myself to be perfect. There were good times: school musicals (before I took them too seriously), field trips, and English projects.
I will always be the grand high queen of the project, especially if it was English or literature. That was an area where I could easily go above and beyond, and I may admit to taking great relish in wiping the floor with my classmates, because it was one of the few areas I could actually beat them at anything. There was the time I bound my own children’s book (with jacket and illustrations, and it was YA novel length), the time I made pioneer food for the class and a hand-bound journal of a trip my group took in a covered wagon, the senior anthology project that ended up taking two volumes and was an exploration of the masks people wear to get through life (no I’m not making that up. I was pretty done with all attempts at a social life by the time I was seventeen), and then there was the time I brought a life-size dummy of a corpse to school..
Oh, the good old days when you could get away with things like that. This was also a senior project, for a speech segment. We had to do some sort of presentation and I think I did a speech from Shakespeare’s Cymbiline (as one does). Anyway, the character Imogen is mourning what she thinks is her husband (he’s beheaded, she can’t tell it isn’t him), and I got it in my head that I needed a dead body. My parents had this mannequin torso from a haunted house, so we put leggings and a tunic on him, stuffed the arms and legs and gave him glove hands, painted the neck, and I actually dragged that thing through the halls of school and never once got taken to the principal’s office/had the cops called on me/got expelled/got suspended/etc.
Actually, people considered it quirky behavior for me to drag a life-size dead body down the hall along with my giant backpack. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was floppy and dressed up in Shakespearean garb. Oh, the good old days. I don’t remember what I got on my speech (yes I do, I’m pretty sure it was an A), but I’m pretty sure I had more fun dragging that thing places and putting him in teacher’s chairs before the bell rang than I did actually doing the speech.
I know, I can’t believe people thought I was cute back then, either.
So in celebration of the good old days, let’s get to the contest!
In the comments, tell me your favorite school memory – it can be from any grade, good or bad. Also leave your email. I shall put it through the randomizer, and the winner will have their choice of my NBP titles in PDF form!
Be sure to check out the rest of the awesome people on this hop!
|1.||Selah Janel||2.||Zillah Anderson|
|3.||Ellie Potts||4.||Kharisma Rhayne|
|5.||Michael Mandrake||6.||Erica Pike|
|7.||Samantha Drane||8.||Dakota Trace|
|9.||Ray Sostre||10.||toy davis|
|11.||Love is a Many Flavored Thing||12.||Topaz Promotions|
6 thoughts on “NBP Back to School Blog Hop!”
Blowing through the SRA Reading Lab
Discounting the pushing of the fire alarm in kindergarten, red button which shouted out to be pushed, I look at my breezing through the SRA box as a highlight of my education. Once I completed reading the entire box, I was given the period to free read while my peers suffered the individual attention of the teacher. The down side of the free reading time was I had to sit at the SRA box table and thusly was clearly singled out as being different as if being very tall, very skinny and very opinionated hadn’t already cemented that quirky reputation. As the early 60’s were still subject to the standards of the 50’s, standing out was not necessarily a good thing. Growing up in a tough steel town, skill in reading was not highly regarded. The criticism I endured was not restricted to merely verbal but the pride I felt in leaving the mundane world of the classroom and soaring to infinity through my books made it all worth while.
I actually loved the school atmosphere of learning but did not like the nuns at the Catholic school…bitter women!
I loved school up until high school when the kids weren’t all that nice , but I did enjoy history and reading classes.
When we were in junior high our detention teacher would play the shinea o conner tape over and over again until we started singing to it. He turned it off and said it was supposed to be for torture. lol.
My favorite memory from school would have to be in junior high when I raised around $200 for Relay for Life. It has always been a foundation close to my heart and I was so proud of myself. Plus, I earned the right to pie a teacher of my choice in the face 🙂
Being in a school play