Study hall land

It’s back to school time again! I used to love this time of year because I loved being a student. I liked starting out with all new classes and finding out what we were going to learn that year.

I remember my junior year of high school was a good one. I was just back from Scotland–I was extremely happy about having survived that! I was finally taking American History from Mr. L, and when I found out on the first day of class that he already knew who I was, it was quite a surprise (I’m not sure why I should be surprised, given how small our school was though.) The year before I had Latin in the classroom next to Mr. L’s Government class, and when I sat at the back, near the door, I used to listen to what was going on next door. I couldn’t wait to get there!

I was also taking American Lit, Algebra II, Chemistry, and Spanish. I also took half a year of computer and half a year of typing.

But it was a big year for study halls. I think that I had as many as three on the days that we didn’t have Chemistry lab. I don’t know how that is possible; it seems that they would never have allowed me to have two study halls to begin with. Maybe it was just that even one study hall seems endless.

I suppose I was an underachiever…although I didn’t have to take Spanish at all; I had taken my two years of Latin, and I signed up for Spanish just because I thought it would be fun. That was before I discovered that the teacher was an idiot, but therein hangs a tale for another day.

I didn’t mind study hall that much. It gave me a chance to read books, and also to write queer little stories–usually in the form of notes to my cousin/friend–about StudyHall Land. We had created StudyHall Land out of sheer boredom and (I flatter myself to think) excess of creativity. Instead of just seeing the school cafeteria peopled with bored teenagers, we saw it as a “peaceful, sleepy land, whose denizens rest safely in the charge of S-Man, our Lord Protector.” Okay, it wasn’t really that creative, but it passed the time.

The ghosts of classrooms past

The funny thing about working in the same area I grew up is that I often see my old teachers. And I mean from my Kindergarten teacher all the way through high school, and even college profs. And grad school professors too.

It makes me feel like I’m taking some sort of test, that they’re checking in to see how I’m doing. See, I really did learn alphabetical order, and I can prove it! When my Kindergarten teacher came in, I realized this lady is the reason I can read and do my job. Wow!

I keep waiting for the day when one of my early grade school teachers pops in at the same time as a college professor. That would be weird. Today I looked up and there are two of my elementary school teachers standing at my desk–my 3rd and 5th grade teachers. Both, strangely enough, named “Mrs. H.” I just wanted to say “hey, get out of here, this is really too weird for me!”