DIARY OF A SCHOOLHOUSE

 

MacArthur Elementary, the second primary school in Galena Park, was built in 1951 and was named for General Douglas MacArthur after he visited our town.

Go Generals!

At that time, it served 400 students. Currently, there are 750 students.

I remember the first time I entered that schoolhouse. I know “schoolhouse” is a very old word that suggests one-room cabins where Laura Ingalls learned to write on slate with chalk. But I am old, so bear with me.

My grandmother walked me down the sidewalk where doors to the first-grade classrooms opened to the outside. I am so old that they didn’t offer public kindergarten. So, first grade was my first class in my first school.

I was enthralled with the colors, the books, the bulletin boards, and the two ensuite restrooms just for us. I learned to read in that room and never got over my love of books. I was there only one semester and moved away – but not forever.

As an adult, I moved back to Galena Park and my younger sister met and married the PE Coach from my alma mater. (For those who question the use of alma mater for an elementary school, see note below.) His office was in the boys’ restroom, so we never saw it, but Coach Mendiola was a popular teacher and is a popular brother-in-law.

When Martin and I bought our “forever house” our three children became students there, and I once again stepped into my old classroom – this time as Ben’s mother. And this was not just a one-semester relationship. After several years as a volunteer, a member of PTA, and a cheering audience for many choir concerts and drama performances, I was sad/relieved when, one by one, all three moved through the hallways and out the door to middle school.

After years of teaching middle school math, Martin decided elementary school would be a great pre-retirement gig. Our connection to MacArthur Elementary had a new twist when he became a fifth-grade teacher in those familiar halls. (I was going to say “hallowed halls” but that seemed a bit pompous.)  In retirement, he substitutes there, but only when he “feels like it,” and those days are becoming rare.

After being at the University of Houston Charter School, then managing a time of virtual learning during the days of Covid, Jennette and Geordan walked through the front door and became a new generation of MacArthur Generals. Because we live only four blocks away (and because we are awesome grandparents), we have been their after-school playmates for several years and have managed to be invited to Thanksgiving lunches, grandparent breakfasts, and many awards presentations. This year, Geordan joined Jennette at the middle school down the street, and my 65-year relationship with MacArthur Elementary has ended.

I don’t know if age makes you more sentimental about bricks and walls and sidewalks, but I’m having a little trouble saying goodbye to my schoolhouse.

al·ma ma·ter (ˌälmə ˈmädər)

noun

1. the school, college, or university that one once attended.