This one is another post from my memories of elementary school. I don’t have that many because it was difficult for me and not thinking about it was my favorite thing growing up.
I’m not talking about the academic situation, but the social part of it. As an adult I know it is a crucial part of becoming a well adjusted person, but oh boy did nobody ever care about those poor kids in Mexico’s public schools (mine was even one of the better ones).
Miguel transferred from another school in fourth grade. I was used to playing the role of the smart kid since always, because all the other kids were so behind (most of my generation raised by tv) but when he came around there was finally another kid actually learning something in school and most likely at home or somewhere else (then there’s Ulises, but he was, uh, street smart).
Mr. Olvera, our teacher, was a good man. He was great at explaining and giving practical advice about most things. He was not a -modern educator-, some preaching guy with an agenda. But he made us think and challenge stuff we’ve been told before. That didn’t sit well with some parents (including mine).
Where I’m trying to get is you have these kids with no good prospects in life and at least you give them hope and tell them they can be a good part of society with hard work. These kids’ families are, of course, the decisive factor at play.
Miguel’s grades were good and kept getting better in fifth and sixth grade. I had a chance to go to the state's general knowledge contest for elementary schools, but declined because I was hoping to go with my friend. Well, my friend said it was okay going alone and he went.
I remember something about the principal being annoyed by my attitude, calling me even a mediocre (harsh for a kid who barely knows the meaning of the word, let alone understands it).
It hit me later that year, in our graduation ceremony. Miguel’s parents were proud, standing in front of the audience, their son getting an award. I wasn’t envious then, I still think I was doing the best I could.
I guess I am envious in a way. I didn’t give my parents that proud moment then. But it worked out in the end, for me.
A couple years later, Miguel was not my friend anymore but he came over to my house and told me Mr. Olvera had passed away. I regret not paying my respects then. I was extremely self aware (13 or 14 at the time) and the thought of seeing my old teachers and people from school made me uncomfortable. What a silly thing to worry about.