With my diploma fresh in hand I was hired to teach fifth grade in Roanoke County, Virginia, which was 32 miles from my mom's house.  I was given a choice, first grade or fifth grade.  Having my mom and her sister my Aunt Helen as veteran fifth grade teachers as support, I chose fifth grade.

Actually, just starting to remember this particular year in my life brings back the 'willies' for me; feeling unsure of myself especially for teaching classroom subjects and not really relishing the idea of teaching an elementary grade.  There were no public school jobs available for straight music. 

I wanted the security of living at home that year.  Our dad was ill at this time and in and out of mental hospitals.  I felt that perhaps I could be a help to my mom.  The first thing I did that fall was buy a new car, a new Dodge!  It was bigger and nicer than the Ford Falcon my mom was driving, and I thought the Dodge would be a welcome addition for the family. 

I contributed monthly to our household what I would have paid to rent an apartment - $125.  Otherwise, my mom had the burden of feeding our family of four when my dad was home.  That realization never occurred to me during the two years I lived at home, as our mom was so organized that she shouldered all and took it in stride.  I did try to do my share of dish washing and housecleaning.

Back to school, there were two other sections of the fifth grade.   One of the the section teachers was kind to me.  I remember the first time we talked, she took a reading book we would use and divided into fourths, showing me how much my class should cover each quarter.  And she suggested I record the landmark pages in fourths for the other subjects.

Little did I realize what I was in for.  My principal was Miss Littlejohn, a regal lady probably in her late 50s, who carried extra weight and to me was most imposing in appearance.  It seemed from the beginning she was breathing down my neck at every turn.  The classes were tracted, and I was given the average to slower learners. 

There was one little girl in my class who had academic challenges, especially in math.  She was an only child and Miss Littlejohn did not like the mother especially.  According to the law of averages four students out of the total number of fifth graders in the three classes should be held back that year.  Since I had the average to slow learners, according to Miss Littlejohn, they were going to come from my class.  I did pass the little girl -- can't remember her name -- and Miss Littlejohn was furious.  She told me my weaknesses would come back to haunt me.

That year after Miss LJ learned that I was good at music, she did ask me to start an after-school choir of 4th, 5th, and 6th graders.  I did and they sang like angels at the school Christmas program.  That redeemed me in a way.

I'm not proud to admit it, but I used to feel so fatigued after the school day and drive back home, I would fall asleep each night with many ungraded papers surrounding my chair.  Were it not for my mom and my Aunt Helen (Mother's sister), I would never have survived the year.  

The next year I was back in familiar territory in a position as choral director at the county high school where my mom's home was.