She's a Real Chick

She's A Real Chick



This is a story of mortification and humiliation.  It’s a funny story, but it wasn’t so funny at the time.

My sister Nancy and I attended East Ward Elementary School in Brownwood, Texas.
At the time of this story, she was in first grade, I was in third.  It was a great school.  I loved walking into the building the first day of every school year and being greeted by the wonderful familiar smells of waxed floors, chalk dust, and new crayons.  Each classroom had a bank of windows across the outside wall and wooden lockers for each student across the back.

          Our desks had spaces for ink bottles and the lid lifted to store our books.  Outside was an endless grassy playground with a few swings and other play equipment, but we girls spent a lot of our time playing with balls and jumping ropes.  We would check out the balls and big ropes from a supply closet.  We also brought jacks and, sometimes, tops and marbles from home.  We enjoyed sports like baseball, but play could be difficult because we wore only dresses and it took more organizing.

Doodle Bug Hole

          Nature also provided diversion on the playground.  There were usually doodle bug holes in the soft dirt where you could pester the little creatures into coming up and showing themselves.  Sometimes you could catch a horned toad, but you had to be careful that it didn’t spit on you.  In the spring there might be swarms of monarch butterflies, and on a hot day you would sometimes find tarantulas in the outside water fountains.  If a ball went over the fence someone had to go gingerly though the cactus in the vacant lot to retrieve it.

        The school had an auditorium with a stage and I got to be Cinderella in my class Christmas play. My mother added a long skirt to a ballet tutu for my costume.  Across the back of the auditorium were a few shelves with books that constituted the “library.”  We were allowed to go there on Fridays and check out books.  Often I would crawl into bed with my book after dinner on Friday and read until I finished it.  I liked Pippa Longstocking books, Miss Pickerell books, and The Bobsey Twins.

Cinderella

Principle-Mrs. Wilson, Sue Anne, Teacher-Mrs. Friend

          This incident happened in the spring.  In fact, it was Easter.  The first grade was putting on an Easter play during the school holiday and the first graders were excited because it was their first time on the stage in the auditorium. When my mother took Nancy to the school for the performance, I went along.  Nancy had to be there early to get into her costume and when we arrived in the first grade classroom, there was a buzz of activity.  Little Easter critters filled the room, and Nancy hurried into her costume.  

          There was also a little hum of concerned voices among a group of mothers, and I soon found out why.  The “chick” was not able to be there.  My mother hurried over to me.  She wanted me to be the chick!  I was the only extra child available and since I was small, I could probably squeeze into a first grade costume.  Besides, the chick only had to say one line, she assured, so I agreed to be the chick. It shouldn’t be hard and might even be fun.

Not me, but similar

          They handed me the chick costume - and then I got the bad news.  I had to change right there in the classroom.  The play was about to start and there was no time to go anywhere private.  I balked. I was not stripping down to my underwear in front of all those first graders! The solution the mothers came up with was not a big improvement.  Several made a circle around me, held out their skirts, and instructed me to change.  “No one can see you now,” they chirped.  It didn’t feel very private to me with several women peering down at me, but I could see there was no way out, so I quickly squeezed into the chick costume, which was pretty skimpy - like a bathing suit that tied around the back of the neck - and two sizes too small.

I was given instructions about my one line and when to say it.  I stood on the stage with everyone else in my skimpy costume trying to anticipate the moment when I should speak up.  But I had never even seen this production and I didn’t have a feel for the flow, so I’m afraid there was a deadly silence that lasted several seconds while everyone else on stage looked at me expectantly.  My sister nodded meaningfully and I self-consciously spurted out my one line.

To the adults, this was not even an occurrence to be given a second thought.  To the first graders, it was an oddity to have a third grader in their play.  But my classmates howled with good-natured glee as they teased me the first day back at school.  They had all heard about my humiliation - that I was in the first grade play - in a skimpy chick costume!

Easter Togs

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These are the directions to one of our playground games.
SEVEN UP
Single Person Bouncing Ball Game

Equipment:
Small rubber ball or tennis ball
Chalk
Windowless wall

Set up:
Make a line on the ground at least 5 feet from the wall.

Play:
The object of the game is to get through 7 levels of motions.
Use these or create your own.

~ Onesies: Bounce the ball against the wall, and catch the ball, once.
~ Twosies: Bounce the ball against the wall, twirl around and catch the ball. Do this twice.
~ Threesies: Bounce the ball against the wall, clap three times, and catch the ball. Do this three times.
~ Foursies:  Bounce the ball against the wall, clap your hands once in front of your body and once behind, and catch the ball. Do this four times.
~ Fivesies: Bounce the ball against the wall, slap your hands against your thighs, then crossed slap your chest, then clap your hands, and catch the ball. Do this five times.
~ Sixies: Bounce the ball against the wall, lift your right knee and clap under it, then lift your left knee and clap under it, and catch the ball. Do this six times.
~ Sevensies: Bounce the ball against the wall by throwing it under your leg, and catch the ball. Do this seven times.

If you make a mistake at any time, you have to start all over, but since you are playing by yourself, you can make your own rules.