Fourth Grade

The following is a verbatim transcript from one of my many journals. What amazes me most as I read them is how little has changed in my mind's dialog. These same words could just as easily have been written yesterday. This journal entry is dated Sunday, March 18, 1990.

Of all my years in school, and there were many, I can recall the fourth grade most vividly. My teacher, Mrs. Drew, seemed so out of touch with where we were as fourth-graders. I remember thinking, "I should be a teacher when I grow up to make up for people like her." I had absolutely no respect for her. She had a daughter, Margaret, who was also in the class. Margaret had the red hair and freckles that reminded you of tangerine sherbet and cheeks that hurt. I felt sorry for her. While I was wondering how she could stand the embarrassment, I noticed the pride she had in her mother and truly wondered how that could be so. Then I decided that Margaret must be dumber than her mother and I avoided her.
Once we had a homework assignment in grammar. It was a fill-in-the-blank with multiple choice, like "He (was/were) at the park yesterday". I remember thinking how silly it was and, of course, I assumed everyone thought the same way. So in order to teach Mrs. Drew a lesson about what's appropriate for fourth-graders, I did the entire assignment incorrectly. While I was doing it, I laughed a lot because the sentences sounded so funny. I just knew it was great. We handed in our papers and the very next day, I think it was a Tuesday, Mrs. Drew said to the class, "I'm handing back your papers. They've been graded and I want you all to hear something. Clyde, would you stand up and read your assignment out loud, please?"
"What a coup!" I thought, "this will be hilarious!" As I started reading I could barely choke back my laughter. My head filled with that rush of giddiness that the age allows, and I could barely contain myself. After the first few sentences though, my laughter died down and I began to have an entirely new feeling. This one started in the pit of my stomach and swept over me like a black cloak. She wasn't laughing and neither was anyone else anymore. "What? On no." I thought. I swallowed hard. "Why do they always have to spoil the fun?"
Life could be so joyful! Of all things to do, why stop fun? I still don't quite understand, even now. I let my kids have all the fun they want. As a matter of fact, I think it's their job. Soon enough, they will have to get serious about making a living. let them have fun now, they deserve it because they were born human beings on earth.

That's the end of the journal entry. True to form, Peace Love Jazz prevails. Joy is right up there with Peace and Love on the energy scale. Your Jazz is what makes you vibrate at high levels of frequency. Follow your bliss.