Soon I entered grade one. A female teacher — although sometimes other young teachers, who couldn’t find a teaching position because of the Great Depression, would hone their skills on us. I remember especially a jolly young man, Mr. Zoutman. He taught us how to subtract. He would have five red, little balls in his hand, put two or three or even four in his mouth, and mumble: how many are there left? Oh, that was such fun. When I taught grade 1ers in Aylmer, I remembered that little trick.

Mosie was my neighbour in grade one (school desks were for two). Mosie came from a poor family, and he smelled. His face was always dirty and gray. His wooden shoes had holes in them. Once, when the teacher wasn’t looking, he opened his fly and showed me his little pecker. What a dumb, thing to do, for I had exactly one like it.

In grade two I had a strict teacher. No more going to the urinoirs behind the school during lessons … hold it up till recess or noon hour. Easier said than done! One morning I had to do a ‘big’ one. I put my finger up but it was ignored. Once more my finger went up, this time waving with more urgency. No, Herman, you have to wait until it is noon-hour. Again, I did a lot of repressing in my lower regions. Again, I waved, but the teacher paid no attention. I ran out of the classroom, but since the anti-pressure of the wooden seat was now gone, the ‘stuff’ found its way out, and I did it in my pants … all the way!

It was in the middle of the winter and because I was a sickly boy, my mother found it necessary to supply me with two woollen underpants. That became my salvation. In the cold washroom behind the school, I removed the dirty one, tiptoed back to the hall of the school, quickly got my thick, brown winter-coat, went back to the WC, bundled up the dirty mess and hid it under my coat. The school had a back entrance which no pupil was to use, but I did it anyway, so I wouldn’t have to sneak past the windows of several classrooms and thus get caught. My mother kept me home in the afternoon, since my intestines were indeed quite upset.

I didn’t hate school. but neither did I like it very much. I remember that I was proud to finally go to the same school as my older brother and sister, but once this pride had worn off, it just became a daily routine from which there was no escape.