After a late lunch with my girlhood friend Marnie Mahoney, I searched the Web for images of Cunningham Junior High School in Brooklyn, where we attended. There were no pictures, just a Yahoo map. The building was nondescript and utilitarian. We received an excellent education in our accelerated classes, but we detested the place.
Brooklyn's elementary and junior high schools were designated by number. My elementary school, PS 206, had no name. Cunningham's number was 234. An absurd little ditty we sang in assembly began:
Marching along together,
Proud to be in 234,
True to our Alma Mater,
We will be forever more...
We lined up twice a day by classes, with the left foot on a line between panels of schoolyard sidewalk. Hallway traffic moved in one direction, with U-turns allowed only at specified points. Between classes whispering in hallways was permitted except during "silent passings" which occurred at least twice a day. Kids that age get out of hand easily. Order was successfully maintained, and this allowed the school to get on with the business of education. But by today's standards, the regimen was absurd.
Girls could not wear makeup or. Pullovers were considered seductive and were forbidden. Our skirts had to be below our knees. Except for class, boys and girls were separated. Boys ate in the cafeteria. Girls were consigned to the auditorium, unless we paid a dollar and bought lunch there, which most of us could not afford. In good weather, they let us out after lunch, but when it was cold or rainy, girls convened in the auditorium and were made to sing inane Rock and Roll songs.
Singing was led by the "Marshalls," a group of muscular, non-academic girls who maintained order. Marnie and I detested the program; we preferred to talk or read. Once, I was sent to Mr. Wittenstein for discipline because I mockingly grinned at a Marshall during these songs. I was not punished.
Below: link to "Book of Love" a song we were made to sang. I always preferred classical music.
2 comments:
A fun post, Roz. I hope your lunch with Marnie went well. That seems as if it could be an interesting experience in several ways. Near the end of this post, you mention a Martha--another childhood friend?
Same person, Mike. Marnie was actually called 'Martha' in Junior High. I'm still getting used to calling her that. I, by the way, was called 'ROZY' at the time-- Now, only my elderly relatives can get away with this.
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