My years at Wicker Park Elem.....

I went to school at King School from K to 4th. grade. My Sister was transfered to Wicker Park at the end of her 6th. grade at King School because my parents did not want her going to 7th. and 8th. grades at Irving School. Irving School was the school you would go to from King School since King School only went to the 6th. grade. Well, for whatever reason my parents decided to enroll me at Wicker Park in the 5th. grade.

A little background on Wicker Park School...Most if not all of my cousins from my mom's side attended that school. It was in the heart of the Puertorican neighborhood. Maybe that is why my parents sent me there, so that I could pick up some of my culture. Well, little did they know that along with my heritage I learned all the bad words in spanish and many other things, which I will leave to your imagination. My 5th. grade teacher was Miss Ginsberg, it was her first year as a full-time teacher and this was the class from hell. I had come from a pretty strict school, but while Wicker Park seemed strick, in the classroom the kids ruled. I joined in and gave Miss. Ginsberg a very difficult time. A few weeks into the school year she broke down and started crying and told us how she picked Wicker Park because she wanted to help us learn but that we were making her feel like quiting or changing schools. This was a might much to tell a bunch of 5th. graders, most of whom didn't give a shit how she felt. Well, I guess it was my upbringing or something, but I really felt bad for her and I decided to start acting better and doing my work. Soon after most of the class followed through and were doing there part to make her feel welcome. Not all changed, but enough of us did to make her stay and give us a chance. When we weren't in class, it was a different story. We were a wild bunch. I was a punk along with the rest of them. There was only one group of kids we did not mess with, the Vice Lords. These were a bunch of Puertorican boys who would kick your ass just for the hell of it. I recall one morning I was fooling around with one of my pals and he was the brother of one of the V/L's and one of them without asking anything, punched me in the face and my nose started bleeding. I just held it in and went to the washroom and cleaned up the best I could. When I got into the classroom the teacher wanted me to tell her what happened, I would not say a word. None of the other kids said anything either. You see we knew better. No one thought I was a coward since they would have done the same thing. I am telling you that even though these were just kids themselves, they were tough. Since I did not tell on them they left me alone after that. Well, I did very well in 5th. grade. Miss Ginsberg took a liking to me. At the end of the year I had recieved straight E's for every marking period. An E was for yes, excellent.

I returned to the 6th. grade at Wicker Park. I had not seen any of my friends all summer long, but it did not take too much time for us to get back to our ways. My sixth grade teacher was a Jewish lady. Her name was Mrs. Horwitz. We pretended that we did not or could not say her name, so we, or at least the boys called her Mrs. Hore Witch. She of course did not appreciate this very much. She was a tough old bat. She would make us either stand outside the class or in a corner most of the day. She would yell at us so close to our face, that she would actually get spitt on us. She finally managed to calm us down by sitting us in a square group of 4. We still got away with stuff. She had most of my friend's parents come up to the school. She really did not have too much respect for the P.R. community as a whole and she would let us know how she felt. One day she got so angry with me that she said she couldn't understand how Miss Ginsberg allowed me to leave the 5th. grade. One girl in the class, Elsa Cancel, stood up and shocked the hell out of me and Mrs. Hor Witch, when she told her I had been on the honor role all year long. Mis Horwitz, you see I can say it, blew her top. She said this was impossible, she was going to check. She came back into the room angrier than ever, she saw my grades and insisted there was a mistake. I opened my mouth and asked her if she did not think Puertoricans could be smart. The rest of the class 100% P.R. started saying the same thing and boy oh boy was she mad. We thought she would explode so we stopped. She really hated me. She wanted me out of her class. She did not let me get away with anything. One day she was teaching us math and I was listening but at the same time I was talking to that girl Elsa. The teacher caught me and quickly erased the problem from the board, and told me to go up there and solve the problem or I was going to the office. Well, since I could not see that well I had gotten into the habit of writing down the numbers as she wrote them so I could work on them without having to look at the board, well she was shocked when I went up to the board and wrote out the whole problem and the correct answer. She was so angry she still made me go to the office and spend the rest of the day there. She was apparently sending my parents letters to come up to the school for a meeting, but since she mailed them to my uncle's house, my parents never got them. Well, Half way into the school year, she came into the classroom with a big ole smile, and told me, "I got you now!" I had no idea what she was talking about since I had done nothing wrong, yet. She went on to tell the whole class how I did not even live in the Wicker Park district and how she was having me transfered to my old school. Well my heart dropped to my stomach, I did not want to go back to King School. Well, she got her way. She threw me out of Wicker Park. I found myself back in King school. I went from 100% P.R. to 75% black and the rest a mixture of Mexican, P.R., Italian and white. I hated going back since there were a buch of black kids who always gave me problems. Most of them however, were okay, but for this one punk who never left me alone. i wanted to kick his ass so bad, but I wanted to get good grades so that I could get out of that school forever. Well, I made it through the sixth grade at King School. and by the way, Mrs. Horwitz had given me straight U's for the past two marking periods, told you she hated me. Well, the teacher at King School called me to her desk one day and asked how this was possible, and I said I did not know. She then went on to say how she expected these to change immediately, I agreed. Well, I did it since I was pretty smart, if I do say so myself, I brought all my grades up to straight E's. I remember her telling the whole class how she had never jumped anyone from a U to an E before, but that I deserved it. What a different teacher, or was it Me who made the difference....