Even so, we never really got a chance to contact one another consistently. There's never a day that passes that I don't wish I had stayed in contact with my old friends. That's one of my many regrets in life.
So, I survived second grade in Darmstadt, Germany for one year, then we had to move the day after school was let out. Someone wanted the position my dad was in at his office back then so, they told him that he had to go work in a new place two hours from our shoebox apartments in Darmstadt. We had moved to Heidelberg on a U.S. military base that kept our whole neighborhood under lock and key. If you didn't have a military identification card, then you weren't allowed in the housing area.
When we moved, we moved into another shoebox apartment with four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen/ dining room, and our living room. The extra room was esenssialy a storage/game room. There were no chairs and the space was very small. The elementary and high school were about fifty feet away from our stairwell door. It took us exactly ten minutes to walk to the front entrance of our elementary school.
The place was called Mark Twain Elementary, and I don't know the name of the high school that was attached to it, but noting good would come of a high school being attached to an elementary school. None of the trouble started until we were halfway into our second year there. One thing I think I neglected to explain was that my family only stayed in one place no more than two years. So, there was never enough time to actually get to know other kids well because we would end up moving sooner than later.
My brother absolutely hated the school we went to. That's when his grades started failing. He always blamed it on the teachers either because he didn't like them or they actually didn't want him to pass and force him into a very steep downward spiral. My dad wouldn't have any of it. He didn't believe my brother at all and simply said that he needed to make sure he was doing his work so he could graduate from high school. We weren't even old enough to fathom that there was another level of schooling that was needed after middle school. Nowadays, things come in threes, so naturally school levels come in threes. Elementary, middle and high. Of course no one wants to hear my ramblings about school. This is about my life and the life of my family after all.
Anyway, I loved Mark Twain Elementary school. I loved the teachers except for the music teacher because he didn't understand my "antics". I never knew what his problem was and I will probably never figure that out, but he hated me with every fiber of his being. I did manage to pass that class though. It was hard but I did it. There's an exaggeration for you.
So, I survived second grade in Darmstadt, Germany for one year, then we had to move the day after school was let out. Someone wanted the position my dad was in at his office back then so, they told him that he had to go work in a new place two hours from our shoebox apartments in Darmstadt. We had moved to Heidelberg on a U.S. military base that kept our whole neighborhood under lock and key. If you didn't have a military identification card, then you weren't allowed in the housing area.
When we moved, we moved into another shoebox apartment with four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen/ dining room, and our living room. The extra room was esenssialy a storage/game room. There were no chairs and the space was very small. The elementary and high school were about fifty feet away from our stairwell door. It took us exactly ten minutes to walk to the front entrance of our elementary school.
The place was called Mark Twain Elementary, and I don't know the name of the high school that was attached to it, but noting good would come of a high school being attached to an elementary school. None of the trouble started until we were halfway into our second year there. One thing I think I neglected to explain was that my family only stayed in one place no more than two years. So, there was never enough time to actually get to know other kids well because we would end up moving sooner than later.
My brother absolutely hated the school we went to. That's when his grades started failing. He always blamed it on the teachers either because he didn't like them or they actually didn't want him to pass and force him into a very steep downward spiral. My dad wouldn't have any of it. He didn't believe my brother at all and simply said that he needed to make sure he was doing his work so he could graduate from high school. We weren't even old enough to fathom that there was another level of schooling that was needed after middle school. Nowadays, things come in threes, so naturally school levels come in threes. Elementary, middle and high. Of course no one wants to hear my ramblings about school. This is about my life and the life of my family after all.
Anyway, I loved Mark Twain Elementary school. I loved the teachers except for the music teacher because he didn't understand my "antics". I never knew what his problem was and I will probably never figure that out, but he hated me with every fiber of his being. I did manage to pass that class though. It was hard but I did it. There's an exaggeration for you.
