Friday, April 9, 2010

Tales of a 4th grade dictator

Tales of a 4th grade dictator
In a very beige and boxy, boxed in box of a classroom as Mrs. Chopinhower scratched, scrawled and scraped her chalkboard dirge entitled “SPELLING LESSONS” Lester Speigal’s boredom began to set him adrift in a different time, a different place. The 4th grade seemed an eternity ago and the events that took place seemed in a different lifetime. He wondered about Fredrick Sellers too. Lester, at the ripe age of nine had a firm grasp on the concept and the use of dramatic effect. Most grown-ups could no longer perceive the glacial movement of time that occurs in eight months, especially when a summer vacation is lodged somewhere in between. Most nine year olds do not think about glaciers. Most nine year olds were never ministers of “propuhgandah” either. Most nine year olds are terrible spellers. “And now class, spell the word….” Mrs. Chopinhower prattled on, as teachers whose glasses require a chain to hold them around their necks are wont to do. Lester kept right on daydreaming, ignoring Mrs. Chopinhower’s endless nonsense. “When will she stop? When is lunch? This is so boring! Of course I can spell yacht it’s spelled Y-A-T! Gah!” Of course, that is how nine year olds who are terrible spellers, spell yacht.
Lester didn’t exactly remember the day Fredrick Sellers joined his 4th grade class. He just remembered him, kind of, just being there one day. Ms. Suvlaki’s class was also very boring and Lester had been daydreaming when her announcement “Class. Meet Fredrick Sellers. He comes to us from New Jersey” received little fanfare. Ms. Suvlaki asked Fredrick to show the class where New Jersey was on the map. He placed it somewhere between Ohio and West Virginia, much to her chagrin. With that, Fredrick disappeared amongst the other twenty-five other students. Fredrick was small for a boy his age. People who are in 4th grade tend to be rather small anyway, but if small 4thgrade kids consider a boy“small” then you know he’s small. That was Fredrick Sellers of New Jersey. Having close-set black eyes, a perfectly bowl shaped head of brown hair and the fashion sense of salesman did nothing to aid in sidestepping the awkward and cold reception of his peers. When a boy named "Lester," of all names in the world for a boy to have (his parents hated him), has deigned another boy to be of such low social standing so as to ignore him altogether you can be sure that boy is a bona fide pariah. It's like a plebeian calling the proletariat untouchable. A person in 4th grade would never ever say something like that. That is until Fredrick Sellers came to class.............

1 comment:

  1. oooh. i know how Lester feels. except i had quite the argument with my kidergarden teacher, Ms. Cook, who once wrote on the board: "Our Class is Reading HUMPY DUMPTY"
    I told her "Humpty has a T in it."
    and she put me in the time out chair.
    What a bitch.

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