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Jul. 28th, 2010 09:00 am
phililen3: (Default)
[personal profile] phililen3
last month when i went on holiday to my home town, i went to the super market and saw my grade two teacher there. i was so happy. she had always been one of my favourite teachers. plus, she could actually speak my home language which made her extra cool. but now that i am older, i realize what a big thing that is, that she is white Afrikaner and can speak Zulu. but i will not dwell on that. it will become depressing.

she has gotten soooo old but she is still a make-up addict. she comes from a time when things were so new and exciting for me. i mean, do you remember what it was like when you were in that grade? i distinctly remember hating boys to the core and having only one group of friends and being the teacher's pet (and the competition for that position! we used to fight over who would carry our teacher's things to and from her car). good times....

but what wasn't such a good time was my very first day at school. no one had explained anything to me really, so i was left to discover things on my own.

my very first day at school i got lost.

i did not know where my class was and i had assumed that the class that was first ferom the gate was the one that was fir the grade one students and so i went. when the teacher went through the register and saw that my name was not there. she asked me what my name was and what my grade was. she was a grade three teacher and she had no idea what to do with me. at one point in the morning during reading time, i saw my mother pass outside the class. i waved to her but she did not see me.

before break time though, i was sent to the grade one teachers and finally they got me into the right class. they had been looking for me everywhere!

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