My Permanent Record
When I was a child and attending school the worst thing that could befall a student was (according to the teachers and administrators) getting one of your misdeeds on THE PERMANENT RECORD! This secret record, stored in a fire-water-bomb proof vault, would haunt you the rest of your life, any stain upon it could prevent you from landing a coveted white-collar job- leaving you with only the career options of ditch-digger or beggar. I discovered this message in a stack of my old report cards. It should have been signed and returned, presumably for my permanent record. It was written by my third grade teacher, Mrs. Narverud, a kindly woman who left teaching after a couple of months, falling ill and never to return. Her kind remarks seem eerily prescient- it's almost as if she could foresee my future blog with remarks such as "... inquisitive mind...", "... likes to know the 'why' of things..." and "... should be encouraged to broaden his interests.."
Now that I stop and think about it, all of my
elementary school teachers left the profession
after having me as a student.