an unnecessary comment

When I was in third grade, I went to a large private school. My teacher was Mrs. Rye.
Mrs. Rye was the kind of older lady who had short, permed hair, and wore floral print dresses with stockings and orthopedic shoes. Words that come to mind when I think of her are, old fashioned, proper, and matronly. Quite honestly, Mrs. Rye would have been right at home in a one-room schoolhouse at the turn of the century where she could have worn bonnets and ankle-length skirts and effectively punished children by smacking them with a ruler. Unfortunately, at our school, she had to content herself with writing our names on her chalkboard, making us have 'silent lunches', and forcing us to write everything in cursive.

Making most third graders write in cursive is a punishment. She might as well have taken away recess and lunch and made us stay in all day having a multiplication bee (we had these everyday after lunch) "In fourth grade, and in college," Mrs. Rye said to us one day,"you will have to do all of your work in cursive." When you are in third grade, you do not truly care about college. Half your class does not even know what it is. And in fourth grade, our teacher let us do our work in print. These facts somehow escaped Mrs. Rye.

Her favorite phrase was,'Unnecessary comment.' I believe my name was on the board several times for 'unnecessary comments'. "Miss Ashlyn," she would say ominously,"that was an unnecessary comment." and she would swish purposefully to the front of the room and put my name on the board, and then I would sink down in my seat while she glared at me. I believe it was somewhat amusing for my mother to ask me how my day was and for me to reply,"I got in trouble." "Why?" "Because I made an unnecessary comment."

The other day, we were in Lowe's. I went to get something for Mom and I turned down the aisle our buggy was on and Mom was talking to this lady. An older lady. In a floral print dress with a starched collar. And orthopedic shoes. I had this overpowereing instinct to hide behind the revolving display of lampshades. But mother saw me. And she called me over. I was not a little shocked when Mrs. Rye greeted me with a pleasant smile on her face. We talked for a few minutes and she asked me things like 'So, where do you want to go to college?' I told her I didn't know. She smiled brightly and said, "Well, if you are as smart as you were in third grade, you shouldn't have any problems." And she hugged me goodbye.

On the car ride home, I thought about how much I owe to Mrs. Rye. I can say my multiplication tables without thinking. And I got lots better at long division because she inspired me by taking away my recess. And I can play the recorder with the best of them. I am sometimes able to refrain from making unnecessary comments. I learned that pictures look better if you use the colored pencil in the same direction rather than scribbling. Oh yes, and today, my cursive is lovely...