My First Teacher

I have fond memories of my first day in school as a kindergarten kid. I remember my teacher wore a very nice dress that looked like she came out of a fashion magazine. She wore her thick, black hair really long. In fact, I think it  was longer than the dress she was wearing. It was the 70s and the fashion trend that time was hip. It was the era where women either wore mini dresses or hot pants. They were either strutting in maxi dresses and platform shoes or micro-mini skirts and knee-high boots. They either matched their outfits with sunny attitude or a “peace-man” neck pieces or brooches. But other than that, I remember too that I had fun doodling, writing, singing, playing and making friends in kindergarten school. And of course, I also remember that I graduated with some honors.

Kindergarten was fun but it's funny that I don’t remember how I was able to sound the letters in the alphabets and read other words aside from “apple, banana and cat" and do Math. But if there is one thing I'm sure of, I remember that when I entered school I can already write my long names straight and tidy, identify shapes, know the different colors of the rainbow, tell time, recite tons of nursery rhymes and sing lots of nursery songs.
I have a fond memory of my “first day" in school and I have a very vivid memory of my “very first teacher" too. My very first teacher wasn’t wearing hip trendy dresses. She was in fact, wearing a simple nice, clean and fresh smelling house clothes that she made herself and that I loved sniffing every time she would come near me and guide my tiny fingers to properly hold that big fat black pencil as I wrote my name. I love the feel of my very first teacher’s warm hug as she read to me my very first book while sitting on her lap. And I love the sound of the tapping of that ruler as my very first teacher pointed at the different letters and shapes in the mini chalkboard. And oh how I love the smell of my very first school as my very first teacher finished up cooking the meal of the day while I was finishing up with my school work of the day.

My first day of school was not actually in the real classroom. My first day in school was actually in our living room just across the kitchen. My first school desk was actually the center table of the living room furniture just across my first teacher’s sewing machine. And my very first teacher was not a real teacher at all. My very first teacher was in fact, a dressmaker. My very first teacher was my mom.

I have a fond memory of my very first school and my Mom as my very first teacher. I remember how happy it was learning with my two brothers. It was chaotic but always fun. It was serious but always prolific. It was indeed didactic but always homey. My siblings and I learned almost everything we learned in Kindergarten way before we actually went to school. But the most important lesson I learned from my very first school and  from my very first teacher was to stop and smell the roses.

That is why, when I became a teacher myself and when things in the classroom went crazy or turned upside down, I would stop and smell the roses - because you never forget the first lesson you learned from your first teacher.

Happy Mother's Day Mom. I miss you everyday.

Authors Note: This is a re-post from My Refuge Online.

Ruthilicious... absent in the Classroom, present in the Chatroom. She blogs when she is NOT Facebooking doing chores and she blogs while she is ALSO Facebooking doing chores.
To read more about her Teaching-Learning Experience... Click HERE.