Elementary School.

I don’t know why I saved my report cards from elementary school but I’m glad I did. They’re pretty.

I went to this Episcopalian school from kindergarten through 5th grade. I don’t remember much except that I wanted to attend Ramaz, where my best friend was in 1st grade and was more fitting as I am Jewish and Ramaz was only a few blocks from our apartment. My mom had an epic fight with the head rabbi and her final words to him were “I’ll show you”. Thus it was that I took a city bus across town and another uptown and learned to love Jesus.

We went to chapel every day. Our Jesus was painted by nuns from the school. He was large, and overwhelmingly beautiful. We curtsied before him.

My most solid memory was the time a group of 1st grade boys ‘selected’ girls one at a time with a shoulder tap at recess. It took a while for me to be tapped. We were told to show up after school at the playground fence, where we were commanded to pull down our underpants and lift our uniform to reveal ourselves. At last, a girl named Rosalind told her mom who told the school. Scandal.

Each girl from class, participant or not, was called in to see Reverend Mother, who scared me more than anyone or anything. She was probably 4’5” and looked like an old potato. She gave all of us a stern talking to, and made me feel ashamed. My usually fiery mother was nonchalant about the entire incident, the fact that no boy was summoned (I remember you Jeremy). She said Reverend Mother had to scare the girls because we could get pregnant. At the time I was 6 years old.

There were nice times, like services at St. John the Devine Cathedral. But for the most part it was an intimidating place for this little Jewish child.

A collage from my saintly days in NYC.

My best friends were Susan Patterson and Jean Ring. Jean left for Africa because her dad was a diplomat. Susan and I stayed friends until college.

For a little while I wanted to be a nun. My mom said they would chop off my hair and I would have to give away all my earthly possessions, which were mostly stuffed animals, so that was that.

I’m sure the place has changed a lot. Especially the tuition, which is now close to 60k a year. It was K through 12th grade when I attended. Now I think it stops at 8th grade. It was difficult for me. We learned French. We played with sticks and rods (what were they aside from beautiful?). Most teachers were nuns. One I remember who wasn’t was Mr. Lipton. I liked him but I think he was fired. Now he is probably dead. I had a classmate named Tina who had cystic fibrosis and knew she wouldn’t have a long life. She was like a cool teenager by 6th grade, smoking ciggies and hanging out with high school boys. I’m sure she is dead. Missie knew how to hike her uniform to be sexier. We wore Buster Brown oxfords. I was the only Jessica. We put on Macbeth in 5th grade. That teacher, Mrs. Harrison, was not a nun. Missie was cast as Lady Macbeth. I had one sentence, as a witch.

I did attend summer school. I ended up learning to hook rugs.

So, those were my formative years. I got mostly B’s in art until my final year there. I barely remember art. What I remember is standing by that fence. I remember Rosalind. She was brave. It was my first time feeling shame, I think. It was the first time I felt unprotected by my mother. I’m quite sure Reverend Mother Ruth is dead. As is mom. And that is that.