Journal #1- Chapters 1-3 (Miss Caroline)

Journal #1- Chapters 1-3 (Miss Caroline)

The first day of school is always the best for me, but this year is different. I just came from Winston County and hopefully everyone will accept me into this small town of Maycomb. As it is my first day as a teacher in my new school, I chose to wear my red- and- white striped dress and high-heeled pumps, and just to spice things up a bit, I put on my peppermint body spray. When kids walked in the room I could tell that my outfit was a bit eccentric but I enjoyed it. Today I am going to read a book about cats and tell them a little bit about me, as I am going to be their first grade teacher. I heard that the kids here aren’t very well educated and that’s exactly how I like it. Its easier when the students aren’t able to read or write. Why? Well to me it gives me a chance to be like there mothers out of the house and teach them from scratch.

As the sudents walked into my classroom, I walked over to the blackboard and printed my name. “This says I am Caroline Fisher. I am from North Alabama, from Winston County.” Just as I said that, the class mummured apprehensively. I couldn’t understand what they could’ve found amussing but I assumed it was just a mumur because I was new here. I continued to read them the story about cats. The cats had long conversations, wore cunning clothes, and lived in warm houses underneath the kitchen stove. By about the time Mrs. Cat called the drugstore for chocolate, the class was wiggling around like worms. “Oh, my, wasn’t that nice?” The way they moved around irked me but I set the book down and began to write the alphabet up on the board. I asked if anyone knew what the letters I had just printed were and was surprised when everyone did. I found out the apparently all of the kids had failed the first grade before. I chose a girl who looked medium built and looked as though she was paying attention. As she began to read through the alphebet, my eyesbrows pulled together in confusion. I asked this girl to read from My First Reader and The Mobile Register. This girl presevered and was literate. “Tell your father to stop teaching you . It interferes with your reading and that is no good.”

“Teach me?” She sounded surprised. “He hasn’t taught me anything, Miss Caroline. Atticus ain’t got time to teach me anything.” I shook my head.

“If he doesn’t teach you then who did? Somebody did. You weren’t just born reading The Mobile Register.” This girl just kept mentioning this boy named Jem, as if I would have even the slightest idea of who he was, and knew this girl must’ve been lying to me. “Now you tell your father not to teach you any more. It’s best to begin reading with a fresh mind. You tell him I’ll take over from here and try to undo the damage-“ The girl interrupted me mid sentence.

“Ma’am?” I said that her father doesn’t know how to teach and to take a seat. The girl murmured something in-audiable under her breath and decided to leave it alone. After recess, I would show them the words “the,” “cat,” “rat,” “man,” and “you.” When doing so, I caught her writing some letter to someone.

“Tell your father to stop teaching you. Besides, we don’t write in first grade, we print. You won’t learn how to write until you’re in the thrid grade.” By this time, she was really starting to annoy me and knew that lunch was about to begin so decided to ask the class is they all had soemthing to eat. The students who did have their lunch set them on the top of their desk and I walked up and down the rows, peering into every students lunches. Some lunches didn’t seem quite pleasing to me and cringed at some, but then I stopped in front of this boy who appeared as if he was starved. “Where’s yours?” I ased him. He told everyone in the first grade that he had hookworms. He wasn’t wearing any shoes but diid have a clean shirt and neatly mended overalls. “Did you forget your lunch this morning?” The boy didn’t answer me so I repeated myself. “Did you forget your lunch this morning?” This time I saw his jaw twitch and heard him mutter, “Yeb’m.”

I went to my desk and opened my bag and pulled out a quarter and handed it to the poor starved boy. “Go and eat downtown today. You can pay me abck tomorrow.” He refused. Who would refuse a meal? I found this very odd and knew that he was fooling everyone if he denied that he needed food. Poor boy looked as skinny as a bone and insisted that he take the quarter out of my hand. “Go on and tell her Scout,” I heard a student point out. I turned her way and saw her hesitate. She slowly arose our of her seat and announced, “Miss Caroline, he’s a Cunningham.” She sat back down.

“What, Jean Louise?”

“Walter’s one of the Cunninghams, Miss Caroline.” I was still confused.

“That’s okay, ma’am, you’ll het to know all the country folks after a while. The Cunninghams never took anything they can’t pay back- no church baskets, and no script stamps. They never took anything off anybody, they get along with what they have. They don’t have much, but they get along on it.” According to what Scout had just said, Walter is a boy who ain’t got lots of money and doesn’t eat much. “You’re shamin’ him, Miss Caroline. Walter ain’t got a quarter at home to bring you, and you can’t use any stovewood.” I stood shock still and then grabed her by the collar. I hauled her to my desk and grabbed my ruler.

“Jean Louise, I’ve had about enough of youthis morning. You’re starting off on the wrong foot in every way, my dear. Hold out your hand.” Scout cooperated with me and held out her hand. She appeared confused and looked back towards the class for an answer and then looked back towards me. I gave her half a dozen quick little pats on the hand and told her to go stand in the corner. A storm of laughter broke out and as I threatened them with the same fate, the class exploded with laughter again. Miss Blount, the sixth grade homeroom teacher from next door, came into the room and announced that if she heard another sound from this room, that she would burn up everybody in it.

Slowly but surely, the day came to an end and how glad I am going to be when the sun sets this evening. With the night slowly coming to and end and morning quickly arrising, I was not looking forward to the moment when I had to step foot in my classroom again. The first day didn’t exactly go the way I had invissioned it to go but then found myself once again standing in the middle of the first grade homeroom. “AH! It’s alive!” I screamed. Little Chuck Little had a little facination for living things .

“Which way did he go Miss Caroline? Tell us where he went quick!” I pointed my finger, which was apperently shaking, towards a boy that had a bush for hair and mud for a face. He told me that his name was Burris Ewell. “Well, Burris, I think we’d better excuse you for the rest of the afternoon. I want you to go home and wash your hair,” I told him. He was the filthiest human I had ever seen. There was only a single patch of skin that wasn’t covered with drak grey filth. He peered back at me.

“You ain’t sendin’ me home, missus. I was on the verge of leavin’- I done done my time for this year.” Again with the statements that I didn’t quite understand. Aparently, the Ewells only stay for the first day of first grade and then are absent for rest of the year. I insisted that he leave and go home but he retorted agaisn’t me and shouted at me with a very rude tone. You couldn’t deny that his pronoucement wasn’t ment to be offensive. He was just so condecending towards me the I began to cry. The students came up towrds me and comforted me with comforting words and convinced me to tell them more of the cat story.

If I got anything out of these first couple days of school, its that I have got a lot to learn about the indigenous Maycombians and that it is going to be a VERY long year.