Book & Cook

“What about your homework?” asked Hagit our first-grade teacher. “I didn't do it. It is too confusing.” I said. “What so confusing about it? All you had to do was to copy exactly what you wrote in class yesterday.” “Well, it's exactly that ...” I said with half a smile on my face. “Let me see your notebook.” I handed the half size notebook to her unwillingly. “Is that is all you wrote?” she almost screamed. “A word and a half?” “Well, like I said, it was confusing.” “What was confusing? All you had to do was to copy what's on the black board.” “I wasn't paying attention; I think I kind of fell asleep. It was boring!” That was it, Hagit lost it. I don't quite remember what she said but it wasn't fun I am sure she was yelling and screaming at me. All I remember was the yelling. “I am going to give you a note to take to your Mom,” she said. “You give it to her and make sure she reads it and comes to talk to me tomorrow. I took the note and put it in my pocket.  On ...

1962 "Tomorrow, children,"  H agit, the first-grade teacher, said, "We will do some artwork. Bring some old magazines, a cup of flour in a paper bag, and pair of scissors."       Finally, something interesting! I said to myself. You know, I didn't like this school. When I was in the kindergarten, we made things; we built with blocks, painted pictures, played with play dough, and did constructive projects. But that year was awful! All we did was copy from the board and recopy at home. When the teacher wrote on the board on the first day "Shalom, first grade" and asked us to copy it in our new half size notebooks, I tried, really, I tried. It took me half an hour to draw the first letter on half of the page. Then, before I had the chance to finish the second letter, the bell rang. The second period I usually spent bothering naive Yemima or Rina, Margarina, the big girl with the long braids. I remember when one Friday I had to stay after school with ...