Mandatory Prayer

My first grade school didn't have semesters or quarters or trimesters. It had, I don't know, quinters? Quintesters? Pentaresters?

Anyway we had five grading periods. They ended with the last school days respectively of October, December, February, April, and June.

Since our first grade was our first grade ever, we were all cut slack for the first Sept. & Oct. grading period. We were not graded. Instead school was generally a fun get-together, learn to socialize, fun fest. Each class would start with the Pledge of Allegiance and the Lord's Prayer. There was a little guided instruction in arithmetic, which I considered lame, some spelling drill, which I also didn't need, and loads of games and art sessions during which I ignored all instructions.

About the Pledge of Allegiance and the prayer: We were told that we couldn't be made to recite the Pledge. Some of the other kids knew what that was about. They explained that you could be a patriotic American or you could be a Jehovah's Witness. I wanted to be a Jehovah's Witness but I didn't know how to fake it, so I faked knowing the words to the Pledge instead.

I think it's interesting that both my first grade teacher and later my second grade teacher refused to lead us in the revised Eisenhower Pledge with the "under god" insertion. They balked for the reason it wasn't traditional. They were even older than 1936-born Congressman Jim McDermott, who famously hasn't got used to the new way.

When it came to the Lord's Prayer there was no conscientious objecting. You had to join in. This was a problem for me, because I never heard it before. At least I'd heard the Pledge, without having learned it. The Lord's Prayer was just complete news to me. My parents, I learned later, recited it every Sunday in church. But I had never joined them in church, and they never had reason to recite it at home. Once a week in church was enough.

WTF, WTF? Give us our daily bread? Our cup runneth over? Who talks like that? Who lets their cup run over? I get yelled at when I spill my cup. Runneth over with what? Who are all these trespassers? They're not going to get forgiven around here, they're gonna get SHOT.

The teachers didn't notice that I was just mumbling the words. The other kids did. That was enough for me to have to hear that I wasn't a good Christian.

I was for the Bible school. I wanted to learn about this Christianity thing I was supposed to be a part of. But it was hard to take that I was already going to be a bad Christian when I was still learning. I was still ready to give it a chance, but the seeds of my rejection of Christianity were there, partly sown by the Fundamentalist's dream of mandatory school prayers, partly by knowing that there was an alternative.

I Join A Gang

First grade in Fort Devens happened at a school on base. Unlike the kindergarten, the grade school had a large playground and a gym. I believe there were 4 classrooms, two for first grade, two for second grade. It was a federal school. Children in higher grades were sent to a public school off base, in Ayer.

Of course, I was a baby boomer. There were always too many of us, all through my education, in public school, and in college. So there were too many of us when we all appeared for the first day to be sorted out. All the new incoming pupils had to mass in the playground area with parents or guardians and wait to be processed and given temporary assignments to classrooms. I think I had my first experience of agoraphobia that day. The crowd was overwhelming.

Initially my future wife-to-be Kathy and I were assigned to the same first grade class. Our teacher was named Parent. I thought that was weird. She was a nice woman.

The first few days were spent impressing upon us the importance of a test coming up and cluing us in to the testing procedure. There was multiple choice practice, so we got used to that sort of thing. Then there was a long test, or actually a sequence of tests. It was in fact an IQ test.

We weren't allowed to know the raw scores, but on the basis of the scores some of the kids were offered placement one year ahead, in the second grade. Kathy and I both were granted that opportunity to skip first grade, on account of acing the IQ test.

Kathy's parents went for it. My parents decided that I needed to stay back in the first grade with children my own age, because that would be better in terms of getting me properly "socialized."

So after one week Kathy and I were split up. It was probably for the best. During that first week we spent every free minute we had smooching and hugging, and completely disregarding anybody who had a problem with it, including Miss or Mrs. Parent. And we were still able to get together on the playground during recesses.

Because we were army brats the students that finished the year were not those who started it. Families moved away and were replaced by others all year round. I'd estimate about 10 left, and about 10 replaced them.

There were other kinds of attrition. At least one girl died of pneumonia. At least one boy was suspended for bad conduct. His name was Dave. That bad boy was my best buddy.

Dave organized a schoolyard gang. His peeps ran the playground. They stole lunches from the dorky kids. They made fun of the creeps and freaks. They ran from one end of the playground to the other, every lunch and recess, threatening anyone with whippings who didn't acknowledge their ruler-ship .

But Dave was not a bad kid. If you accepted his ascendancy you could be his friend and he would protect you.

Remember, I couldn't tie my own shoes yet. I also couldn't dress and undress myself. That was still the case. In the classroom Miss or Mrs. Parent and her assistants could take care of the shoelaces. Miss or Mrs. Parent also made special trips to the bathroom with me to help me.

Dave's first reaction to that was to decide I was a retard. He could tie his own shoes and he didn't need special help going to the bathroom. But when I told him I wanted to join his gang he only asked me if I would be loyal and obedient. When I said yes I was accepted, with all my flaws, and Dave personally took care of my shoelaces on the playground.

So I socialized very well, didn't I? The social landscape was harsh, but could be worked!