“In the middle of every difficulty
lies opportunity.”
Albert Einstein

I began my elementary education as a first grader at Saint Gabriel School in San Francisco in September 1960. I had attended kindergarten at our local public school, as Saint Gabriel did not offer a kindergarten program at that time. My brother, Tom was in 5th grade that year, and my sister, Cathy, was in 4th. They, like my Saint Gabriel classmates, all have their own memories of their elementary school years. My memories are mine alone. I accept full responsibility for them. When I began to write this piece, I decided to write about the first memory that came to mind for each grade level.   

1st Grade

My only memory of 1st grade is being put in the corner after making a hat out of my art paper. One of the girls in my class had made a hat out of her paper and she got a few good laughs. When I did it, hoping for a similar reaction from my classmates, Sister James Mary made me sit in the corner of the classroom facing the walls for the remainder of the day.

2nd Grade

The fear of God was put into me by Sister Mary Sharon that if I did not successfully memorize three prayers — the Act of Faith, the Act of Hope, and the Act of Love — I would not be allowed to receive my First Communion. I was sure that I was going to be the only kid in my class to be denied this sacrament. In the end, it didn’t matter. Although I had not successfully memorized the prayers, I was still allowed to participate in the special event.

3rd Grade

Sister Mary Roberta was older than the other teachers in the school. It wasn’t until many years later that I learned just how much older. She was born in Santa Clara, CA in 1889!  She was the best teacher I had at Saint Gabriel School. When I was struggling with math, specifically the process of “borrowing” in subtraction, I was invited (required?) to meet with Sister in one of the parlors inside the entry of the convent after school for several days. There, she patiently and compassionately tutored me one-on-one until I mastered the concept.

4th Grade

My most vivid memory of 4th grade is one shared by many, I would think. On November 22, 1963, President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, Texas. I recall the details of that day vividly even today. Word of the shooting started going around the school cafeteria while I was eating lunch, but some claimed it was just a rumor. When the boys in our class arrived at South Sunset Playground for our lunch recreation period, the two adult supervisors, Mr. Grove Mohr and Mr. Don Ybaretta, were sitting solemnly on the grass at the corner of 40th & Vicente listening to the news on a transistor radio. Tears rolled down Mr. Mohr’s face. It was then that I realized that the president had actually been shot and killed.

5th Grade

The unexpected death of my best friend, Mike Celeski, is the most vivid memory I have of 5th grade. I was sitting at the kitchen table in our home when my mother told me of Mike’s death. My parents, along with Sister Mary Roberta, took me to the Carew & English Funeral Home on Masonic Avenue after school a few days later. Mike’s body was lying in a casket in the small chapel where the wake would be held later that evening. Sister Mary Roberta and I walked up to the casket and knelt down on the kneeler. I had been to enough wakes to know that I was supposed to say a prayer, but I don’t think I did.

6th Grade

6th grade was my first experience of feeling absolutely certain that a teacher strongly disliked me. I have very few memories of 6th grade. I cannot help but think about the well-known quote by Maya Angelou, who said, “People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did. But people will never forget how you made them feel.” That’s the truth.

7th Grade

Back in the ‘60s, we didn’t use the terms “junior high” or “middle school” to refer to students in grades seven and eight in catholic schools. We were simply called seventh or eighth graders. The now well-known characteristics of the middle school experience, however, were just as much of a reality in the catholic schools. Social cruelty, bullying, exclusion, and cliques were part of the everyday reality at Saint Gabriel School for many students. Sadly, in 7th grade, my teacher was an active participant in these things. She catered to the popular kids and turned a blind eye to the social cruelty taking place in the classroom and on the school yard. Just as I had experienced in 6th grade, I have no recollection whatsoever of what I learned in 7th grade, but I will always remember how I felt.

8th Grade

Sister Mary Brigid was my 8th grade teacher. She was new to Saint Gabriel School, having taught in a catholic school in Imperial Beach, California the previous year. She was young. She was kind. She was compassionate. She seemed to have a good understanding of the social dynamics going on among the students and did her best to neutralize the situation. Sister Mary Brigid believed in me. She encouraged me when I didn’t believe in myself. She empowered me by giving me tasks to do in the classroom. She restored my faith in humanity. 

Despite the challenges, my years at Saint Gabriel School had tremendous value. I learned to write well and I developed excellent organization skills. I wish I had read more books. I also wish I had felt accepted enough by my peers to participate in school sports after sixth grade. I made a few good friends through the years, though it took me many years (50 to be exact) to recognize this.

The life lessons I learned at Saint Gabriel School were beneficial to me during my teaching career. I had a clear understanding of the dynamics of social cruelty, and, as an educator, I did everything possible to squelch it. I had compassion for students who struggled, both academically and socially. I was also uniquely qualified to offer a vision of hope for many of my students, and their parents, by sharing details of my own social/educational journey. I will always be grateful for the experiences that contributed to making me the person I became as an adult.