I have an outstanding memory. In fact, my memory is so outstanding that it is often cause for embarrassment in social situations where I mistakenly reveal the precise details of past events my mind holds and therefore appear to possess subtle stalker-like tendencies. (If you were wondering, my first boyfriend, Jordan Holling and I began dating on May 9th, 2002. Drawing attention to the fact that I know this is not something one should point out.)
I vividly recall exact outfits I wore on specific days of school, verbatim quotations from inconsequential conversations past, and can replay movies in my head of many events from age four on. Recently however, I have discovered that I have a big blank spot in my memory. An entire school year of my life has lapsed into the recesses of my brain, and for the life of me, I cannot draw them out. Fourth grade is the missing year in my childhood.
I’ve developed several theories as to the cause of this, and I’m sure you could too. For those old-school psychology types, you may think that I am repressing some unspeakable, ghastly event. Others may argue that my memory just isn’t that great. Others may claim that if I simply think hard enough, it will come flooding back to me. I must insist you are all incorrect. Over the past months, I’ve reached only one logical conclusion. Fourth grade was painstakingly boring.
Mrs. Carter was my fourth grade teacher. It’s not to say that Mrs. Carter was a poor instructor; she merely loathed children. Perhaps loathe is too strong a word, but she certainly didn’t like them.
Of the 180 days spent in this woman’s classroom, I recall the following events in this all-inclusive list:
- Spelling Tests
Each week we had to learn twenty words. Mondays were pretest days, where we were to spell each word without any advance notice or study to serve as a frame of reference of our prior knowledge. We worked on the words throughout the week and had our post-test on Friday. We kept data on our results in our Spelling Folders. I earned a perfect score on every single post-test for the entire year. I experienced great anxiety that I would receive a 19/20, and one day this almost happened. The offending word: lemon. Fortunately, at the last moment I abandoned the second ‘m’ I had placed in the middle of the word before submitting my assessment for grading.
- Proficiency Test Prep
I abhorred any day that I spotted those yellow spiral-bound packets sitting on Mrs. Carter’s desk when I walked into the classroom. It was at this point I knew any remaining hope of having an engaging, interesting day was now killed when I laid eyes on them. Reviewing for the Science Proficiency Test was the bane of my existence.