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Published: September 4, 2007
Olga P. Cevasco was my fourth grade teacher. She accepted, embraced, and encouraged me. She looked at me, listened, smiled, and I knew she valued me. She liked and cared about me, and was one of my earliest heroes because she made such a tremendous difference in my life.
I was lonely and confused that summer before I started fourth grade. My mom was hospitalized for weeks at a time after a serious car accident. My dad never explained much to me about what had happened. All dad ever said was: "Janet, you're going to be spending some time with your Aunt Rhea in Newark, New Jersey."
It was a long, dry and hot summer, not much to do in Newark. By summer's end I was anxious to get home. School was about to start. I was excited to see my friends again and meet my new fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Humphries. When I arrived at PS 58 Queens that September morning the classes were lining up in the schoolyard. Marie, Frankie and Anthony were standing in line waving to me.
"Where have you been? We've missed you so," they said as they hugged me.
I happily got in line behind them. I had so much I wanted to tell my friends. A tall, stern figure stood in front of us. I studied her face, searching for a smile. There was none. She began taking attendance. As she said our names we were to form a line in alphabetical order. She spoke so rapidly I wasn't clear about what to do. "Janet Elizabeth Bigg, Janet Elizabeth Bigg! Where are you?" she grumbled. I wanted to hide. I shyly raised my hand. She walked up to me and gripped my arm firmly. She pulled me to the front of the line. I didn't like the way she touched me. No one had ever touched me like that in my entire life. I could see the fingerprints that she left in my arm. "You will stand in the same place in line every day. Now we are going to enter the building without a sound." There were no sounds as we followed her. When we reached the classroom we took our assigned seats. I sat up in front, looking right at Mrs. Humphries.
"You may go to the bathroom once in the morning and once in the afternoon. There is no talking in this classroom. You will stay in your seats and get to work."
By the end of the first week Mrs. Humphries had moved my seat to the back of the room in the comer away from everyone. I had talked during reading group. She kept me in after school for too much talking in the cafeteria. I had to sit with my head down for thirty minutes. Once, when the elastic broke on my underpants, I tried to tell her, but all she said was:
"Take your seat, young lady. This is not the time."
I spent that day with my hand in my dress pocket holding on to my underpants so that they wouldn't fall down.
"Boy, she is so mean. She never smiles. She doesn't like kids. All she does is yell. She is the worst teacher in the whole world. I hate school."
But all my Mom said was: "She's a very good teacher. And she says that you're the best reader in the class."
"How does she know? She always sends me back to my seat during reading group." I said.
It was early November. There was a chill in the air and I had a slight cold.
"Mrs. Humphries, may I go to the bathroom?" I asked urgently.
"Sit down in your seat, Janet, and get to work. You've already been out twice today."
I sat and squirmed the whole afternoon. I was miserable. By the time I walked home from school, I was in tears, embarrassed, extremely uncomfortable, and very wet.
"Boys and girls, good morning. I have something important to tell you. Mrs. Humphries will not be in school today. In fact, she will not be returning to school for the rest of the year. She is going to have a baby, and needs to get lots of rest." our principal announced. "Tomorrow you will be getting a new teacher. I think you will like her very much. Her name is Miss Cevasco."
When I woke up the next morning I was filled with anticipation, hope, and fear. "What will she be like? Will she be mean like Mrs. Humphries? Will she like me? I wondered. I arrived at school early. The class was quiet as we filed into the classroom. There she was, a short, round woman with a radiant, smiling face and twinkling blue eyes. As we took our seats she began singing softly, familiar songs. We joined in. Her arms moved gracefully to the music. It felt so good to be in that room that day.
"Why are you sitting in the corner?" she asked me. "Please move your desk up front where I can see your beautiful face." Then she winked at me. I felt warm all over.
The days flew by with Miss Cevasco. Every day was a new adventure. There was plenty of talking, laughing, and learning in our classroom. Interesting activities were set up around the room.
We moved around the room working at the various centers. We didn't have to stay in our seats. What an exciting place school had become. We lined up in any order that we wanted. And we could go to the bathroom as often as we needed. She trusted us.
One day Miss Cevasco asked me to stay after school. She said she needed my help to organize her many papers, wash the desks and blackboards, and just to chat. I stayed after school frequently to help my new friend. She even told me her real name: Olga P. Cevasco.
"I've been in a hospital for a long time with TB. I used to live in a convent. I was a nun. I am so happy to be well again, and to be your teacher." That's when I knew.
"Miss Cevasco, some day I'm going to be a teacher just like you," I promised, "and let all children know that I care, and that I really like them."
And I did.
Janet Lynch lives in Sebring
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