What was...

1. ...your first grade teacher's name?

Oh, man. Talk about the floodgates.

After kindergarden, my parents transferred me to a local Catholic school.v[insert foreboding music here]

I was horrified to discover that my teacher's name was Sister James Columb. Yes, she had a boy's name. And her demeanor was certainly not possessing any of the qualities one might associate with a female first-grade teacher (friendliness, gentleness, understanding...)

We had to wear horrible dark green wool jumpers and pale green shirts as our uniform, and we were like a field of miserable greenery.

Sister James was a schoolyard Gestapo. We could not use erasers under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, so our handwriting had to be perfect. No mistakes! I personally had a hard time holding the pencil as taught, since I had already been writing for a long time and had developed bad habits (which I have to this day.) My pencil-holding frustrated the hell out of Sister James, and she very demoralizingly forced me to use those stupid rubber triangles on my pencils and generally made me feel incompetent.

Sister James' biggest weapon was The Frowny Face Note. I got one of these once - most likely for my poor performance in pencil-holding. They were yellow, unlike their counterparts the Smiley Face Notes that were white. It was like the Black Spot, getting a Frowny Face.

Furthermore, Sister James had a bit of what we like to call "a bad temper." Once, a small subset of the class was particularly rebellious. She got so angry at those children that the teacher from across the hall gathered up the good kids and brought us to her classroom, where we hid behind the cubbyholes until the shouting subsided and we were given the all-clear.

I shit you not.

Sister James, despite my poor pencil performance, took a liking to me because I could read. Not just picture books, but things like passages from the Bible. She took great pride in trotting me out in front of other teachers like a little show dog and thrusting books into my hands, instructing me to read to them. (What always frustrated me was that Sister James always picked really easy books for me to read. If you're going to show off, do it right -- give me Crime and Punishment or something.)

In fact, my reading was such a subject of joy and rapture to them that for the annual parish All Saints Day mass, they had me do one of the readings as part of the Mass. They had to use 3 large boxes so that I could reach the microphone (and I needed it, as the church was packed with thousands of people.) There are pictures of this event -- me at 5 years old, standing on fruit crates, dressed up as Saint Cecile in a red gown and ivory lace headscarf.

It's actually pretty funny. My mother still speaks in hushed tones of that day, as she is still in awe that I wasn't scared and that I didn't make any mistakes. I suppose it's not a surprise that I later got hooked on theatre.

The best illustration of how I felt about Sister James is the snowstorm story. One day in the winter, we were hit with a blizzard that dumped several feet of snow during the day. School was naturally cancelled mid-day, and we all eagerly awaited our parents' arrivals. Strangely, everyone else's parents had come and gone and I was still waiting - there, alone, in the hallway with Sister James. I became very distraught. Sister James tried to "comfort" me by saying - "Well, if your parents don't come, we can spend the night together!"

I began bawling uncontrollably at the mere thought of it.

My last memory of that fateful 1st grade year was the end-of-year desk cleaning competition. Who could get their desk cleanest? It was me, and as a prize I won a glow-in-the-dark Rosary, which remains to this day the tackiest prize I have ever won in my life.

I've still got that rosary hanging off of my grandmother's old crucifix in my room at home.

Oh, yeah. We were doing the Friday 5 or something. Here's the rest:

2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?

Does Rainbow Brite count? I think it does. In fact, I am wearing a Rainbow Brite T-shirt RIGHT NOW. Really.

3. ...the name of your very first best friend?

Amy. I remember jumping on her mother's waterbed, and if I recall correctly we met during gymnastics.

4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?

Always Cheerios. I was not allowed "sugary" cereals.

5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?

Dance class. I loved dancing.

Thanks for tuning in, folks! Next time on Insanely Long Stories from Athena's Past: The Second Grade and Why You Shouldn't Change Your Clothes in Front of the Whole Class!