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Alamo Elementary School Days

My first experiences with what I'll call organized education -- unorganized being my mom reading "Fifty Famous Fairy Tales" before naptime -- was at Alamo Elementary School.
It was a fairly tough school with playground fights and classroom warfare regularly featured.
My math experiences there weren't the best, but I'm pleased the school is getting kudos for math.

"Texas Monthly" named it as one of the 800 "Best Public Schools in Texas," according to today's article by Ann Work in the Times Record News.
But I can pinpoint the exact time that math went off the rails for me at Alamo.
It was third-grade algebra -- granted, more than 30 years ago.
The teacher was a sweet, well-meaning woman who wore bright red lipstick, corkscrew curls and thick polyester dresses.
The class was a beast that blasted spitballs, paper airplanes, notes and chaos at any and all opportunities.
The teacher just couldn't control us.
It got so bad that students loudly carried on conversations while she was trying to explain concepts.
I remember feeling sorry for her and even trying to listen.
At some point, I gave up and started carrying on the conversations, too, like little girls will do at the slightest opportunity.
Downstairs was the classroom of Mrs. S, a frightening teacher who taught those considered incorrigible.
She was getting close to retirement and never smiled. She ruled with fear, but she ruled.
I remember seeing her smile one day -- a big grin that changed her whole face, and the bottom fell out of my world briefly. I never imagined she actually could smile.
Rumors started circulating that if we didn't straighten up, we were going to get Mrs. S.
Well, we didn't straighten up. Eventually, the school administration stepped in and changed our teacher.
But it was too late for me and algebra.
Years later, I managed to wring a "C" out of college algebra and was thrilled.
But the school gave me other things, in spite of the dicey atmosphere.
I had an English teacher, Mrs. Maxi, who drilled us in sentence diagramming. This did me more good than anything else in learning how to use correct grammer and understand the English language. It might not always show in the harried world of newspaper writing, but that's what good editors are for, right?
Another English teacher handed out a list of "great books." Pretty soon, I was plowing through "Tale of Two Cities" and "The Three Muskateers." I probably didn't understand all of those books, but I did read them.
Mr. Hathaway's history classes drew me in like never before. He told the most interesting stories about that previous boring thing -- history.
He also explained to the class that he used to be a mechanic, but he went to college and got his teaching degree. At the time, it was pretty unusual for anyone over 30 to go to college for the first time or go back to school.
Thus, the idea was born that a person could be mobile and didn't have to settle for whatever life seemed to be dishing out at the moment.
I also made two best friends there who I still consider some of the best friends I've ever had. One of them left me a message on my cell phone yesterday that she'd just moved.
She doesn't do a bad job of keeping in touch after more than 30 years.
Ann Work's story in today's newspaper notes that 92 percent of Alamo students are economically disadvantaged.
I don't know if I and my three siblings fit into that category.
But we certainly weren't economically advantaged at the house on the corner of Elizabeth and Harrison.
Still, we got a decent education at Alamo overall, and it's good to know the school is dedicated today to giving youngsters something that everyone should have no matter what economic category he fits into:a shot at a good education.

Posted by Trish Choate at 12:01 PM | Permalink