So here I am, making this potholder for someone I know just a tiny bit about. But even with the little I know about the person it’s for, I know it has to be yellow and I’m sure the dress is a good print and colors, the words are are right. As I was stitching her leg, getting closer to her foot, I began thinking of the right kind of shoes. It’s gotta be those great boots, I thought. Even if she’s never owned a pair, she has it in her.
And then I remembered why I love those big heeled tie-up boots. Ms. Shapiro used to wear them. Not my second grade teacher, but the teacher in the room next to mine. She was beautiful. Long frosted hair, make-up and skirts short enough to show those big heeled tie up boots. And on top of all that, she was a “Ms.” The only one in Shaw Ave Elementary School. I asked my mother what “Ms.” meant and she told me women used it when they didn’t want people to know they weren’t married. I must have grasped the true meaning of “Ms.” despite my mother’s definition. I still thought Ms. Shapiro was the coolest person I had ever met and I wanted to be just like her.
Well, I had a Ms. Ruggerio in the second grade. She had big hair and a leather halter-ish type of top. She was wild to us kids, but we loved her. She was the first Ms. I ever met and she had a very big heart.
Love the boots!
I never thought of the first “Ms” before this. It’s great that it’s no longer something to have to think about. And isn’t it interesting how we do remember. Thanks Ms. Ruggerio
I think every second grader (especially the girls) need to have a teacher like Ms. Shapiro – even if she is just down the hall. Lucky person who will be the receipient of this potholder, Maria!
You nailed it, Maria. I had those boots in the late 60’s…..treasures of power, or at least it seemed that way. They took me on a few marches.
I knew they were power boots Marcia. Thanks for the story.
Hi Maria,
If you’ve come to my name on your list of commissions/requests I’ll be delighted. If not, just know that this speaks to me. Used to have a note on my fridge years ago: “There is enough. I have enough. I am enough.” This is a beautiful reminder! Thanks.
-JB
Julie, I’ll email you about it. I made this one for someone.
You brought back memories of my grade school teachers of the 70’s, the short skirts, the waist length hair, the clunky, cool boots. They shared the same hallways with the nuns who also taught us…guess who had more of an influence on us? We girls wanted to be them, and the boys couldn’t concentrate!
We all have memories of our teachers. I remember many of them; my elementary school teachers save my life. My family lived across the street from my elementary school. I was in kindergarten when my father had a massive heart attact a year after he returned from WWII; he was part of the “greatest generation” and served in the Pacific for three years. The day he had his heart attack my baby brother was born. In those days heart patients were kept in bed, so my dad was kept at home, my mother and brother were sent to live at my grandparents, and I was sent to live with my aunt, uncle and cousins. It was a difficult time for a little girl. When we all finally could come home we had to be quiet so that we didn’t disturb my dad. He recovered, but I never wanted to leave home. I guess I thought if I stayed there I could make sure everyone was all right. I didn’t even want to go to school. I was a scared little girl. My teachers and principal were wonderful, so understanding. The principal would even come across the street and walk me to school.I never thought about it before, but maybe those teachers were the reason I became a teacher for something like 33 years. I had many adventures and wonderful memories of those years when I taught. I have small feet (they are larger now, a 4 1/2), and I remember one of my students remarking on my feet, and saying that they didn’t understand how they even held me up! Out of the mouths of babes.
We all have special memories of those days, and aren’t we lucky!
Jane
Great Story Jane, thanks.