First Trip to the Principal's Office

Every school kid gets a trip to the Principal's office.

Don't they?

I got my first trip in the First Grade. Start off on the right foot; I always say that. Thinking back, I don't recall the exact details but I do remember the consequences.

It had been raining for a couple of days. The playground was soggy and where the grass had yet to grow it was a quagmire. We were 24 or so first graders cooped up in a classroom all day, but the school clock and schedule continued to tick along as if nothing unusual was happening.

Well, something unusual was happening. First grader kids were becoming restless, tired of being cooped up all day. Something was going to blow!

Our teacher, as if endowed with a sense of ESP decided to spend afternoon recess in the teacher's lounge where she no doubt smoked a carton of Camels and chugged a quart of Jim Beam, such was the effect our delightful dispositions must have had on her. Perhaps she spent the hour pouring over her teacher's contract looking for a loophole; an escape clause.

Whatever she did is lost in the mists of history but the one thing she did that is not in dispute was to Leave a Class of First Graders Alone for an Hour.

If there is a horror film to be made it is this: First Graders Alone!

I remember how that hour unfolded. At first we worked on our coloring assignment. The classroom was quiet other than the incessant plink plink of the rain outside. Then, an unnamed person wadded up his coloring assignment and threw it. The wadded up ball of paper arched high in the air before bouncing off one of the students in the middle of the room.

That was the spark.

A veritable jamboree of paper throwing ensued after that for a whole five minutes. There were screams and shouts and maniacal laughing galore as wads of paper arced across the room, litering the floor with paper hailstones. Pausing briefly to assess the situation we soon realized that there was not much fun in thowing paper when we could throw everything else!

So, we did. We raided the Activity Cupboard and took out all the balls and outside toys. We stood on desks and jumped around like demons possessed. At some point in the festivities the big, red rubber ball was thrown to me and while standing on the teacher's desk I batted it towards the door.

Just as the Teacher returned from her break.

The ball bounced in front of Teacher, over her head, and into the quagmire outside our classroom. Instantly all the noise stopped and all of the kids returned to their desks except for me who was frozen on Teacher's desk. Hastily, I hopped down and scuttled to my desk, but it was too late. I had already been identified as the Ringleader of the uprising.

Teacher grabbed me and three other boys and marched us down the walkway to the Principal's Office. Although I don't recall all that happened, I do recall that my mother was summoned, as were the mothers of the other three boys and all four of us left school early that day. The remainder of my day was definitely unplesant culminating with the ultimate threat:

Wait Until Your Father Gets Home.

I must have blacked out after that because that's all I remember.

As for the Principal's Office. I don't remember a thing. I must have been terrified out of my wits. Nobody returned from the Principal's Office, at least that was the legend.

Looking back in time through my adult eyes I can only imagine that he was sympathetic but stern given the situation, and Teacher must have been embarrassed for letting her classroom get out of control. It may have been the first time but it wouldn't be the last time that a classroom of rain-bound kids let off a little steam, or that a teacher lost control. Those times were rare but very memorable for both the students and Teacher.

Best wishes, Miss Merchant, wherever you are!