Teaching in Primary

The first Primary class I taught was a nightmare. It was 1977, and I had a four month old baby. The class had grown too large and had lots of problem students. So the Presidency decided to split the class. The teacher of the too-large class must have had some input into how the class was split because, mysteriously, all the problem students ended up in my class. All the children who behaved were inexplicably placed in the other teacher's class. I liked the kids in my class about as much as I like paying income tax. Without question, the feeling was mututal.

When I remember that experience the phrase "Cold War" keeps coming to mind. In those days I gave lipservice to the idea that we love those we serve. But I had no idea how to love a bratty kid who was entertaining herself by doing hippopotamus imitations and voicing the opinion that she was mimicing my behavior to perfection. Most of the time I was in survival mode. I felt destined to fail at anything important. I had a small baby that I failed to nurse, and so she had constant ear infections. I didn't finish college because I married. So I was a failure to my mother, and she told me so. I was trying to deal with a nasty bout of post-partum depression, which the other new mothers around me did not seem to have. There was no health insurance that offered me any kind of medical help. My husband was still an apprentice at his vocation and made just enough to scrape by, if nothing unexpected came up. At the time, I had no friends in town, only acquaintances, and no one to talk to. There might have been a support system at church, but I was scared spitless to open up to anyone. I wasn't hanging by a shoestring, I was hanging on the edge of the Grand Canyon by bloody fingernails. To be sentenced every week to teach kids who were collecting scalps by running off Primary teachers, set my cup of gall overflowing.

When the call came to be the Stake Young Women Sports Specialist and create a whole new Young Women's sports program, I accepted it in a flash. The words, "You might need to be released from your current calling..." were no sooner out of the man's mouth than I was on the phone to the Primary Presidency telling them I had to be released: IMMEDIATELY

After that experience, I avoided teaching Primary like I avoid bears when I'm hiking. To me, both were deadly. After raising five childen, returning to finish college, having callings in almost every other organization, and working in a job I loved for ten years, at age 53 I was given two Primary callings: one in Cub Scouts, one as a teacher. These have been my favorite callings of all time. I've found it easy to like and love the kids. I've found when they know you like them, they want to behave. I love planning activities that are fun because, doggone it, I don't want to be bored anymore than my scouts do. I love the satisfaction of seeing the kids learn or achieve something. Probably because I am not stressed to the point of breaking, I can laugh with the kids. After sitting through some lessons where I was pretty darn bored, I can understand when children act up a little. I love getting know them and enjoy their unique personalitites. So, here's to hoping my next year in Primary is as great as this year has been.