Retrospect: school desks, part0

Self-tutoring about people and events from the past: the tutor reflects about elementary school desks.

I mention in my post from April 21,2021, about organizing other students’ desks, at the teacher’s order, back in grade 4. Yet, that post rose its own topic: student desks.

For me, personal territory that’s unsecured, protected only by the honour system, is fascinating. Why is it safe and appropriate to leave one’s belongings unguarded in one place, when you wouldn’t dream of doing so in another?

Perhaps the first such situation one meets in life is one’s elementary school desk.

I recall the very first desk I had – my kindergarten one. It was wooden, with a drawer under the seat. I don’t think it had storage under the desk top.

My kindergarten teacher was nice, but she could sense I was struggling. (The fact is, I found school very hard until grade 2. Then, everything changed, and school was easy for me after that. However, life remained a challenge.) In particular, I wasn’t good at crafts, which were half of what we did in kindergarten. That teacher worked us hard, too, always presenting us some new craft to do. I wasn’t even good at coloring. She, on the other hand, excelled at anything visual. When she would show us a new craft to do, she would make it herself first, so we’d see how nicely it could come out. Mine were such disasters I stopped finishing them.

I’d wait for an opportune time, then stash my hopeless attempt at the craft in the drawer of my desk while everyone else was occupied. That system worked remarkably well for a few weeks. However, the drawer started to fill up – even I, five years old, could tell it was a short-term solution.

Moreover, I became afraid of opening the drawer because I didn’t want to face the horrible, unfinished crafts inside. I feared the teacher would learn about them and ask me to finish them. I knew I couldn’t; at that age I was too inept.

One or two of my classmates eventually got wise to what I was doing. They didn’t snitch, although they did ask me why I wasn’t finishing the crafts. “They’re messy,” I answered. “I can’t make them look good.” They accepted and understood.

So, that desk drawer shielded me, for maybe a six-week stretch, from finishing crafts I didn’t want to face. Then, I came up with a Plan B, which is another story:)