Every year, third graders in Groton, Massachusetts take a field trip to the old one-room schoolhouse, the Sawtelle School. It’s living history, and that’s just how children should learn history.
I get to be their teacher. Lucky me.
Groton is an old New England town, settled in 1655. The schoolhouse dates from the late 1700’s and was in continuous use as a one-room schoolhouse until 1916. It served as a school for nearly 125 years and is on the National Register of Historic Places.
In 1833 it was converted from wood to brick. That’s the year in which I am the schoolmarm, and where this story begins…
I ring the big brass bell to call the scholars to school. In 1833, children who attended school were ‘scholars’, not students. “Welcome, scholars! This is the old schoolhouse in Groton.”
Before I had a chance to say any more, a few children recognized me and ‘broke the line’ to run forward and give me a hug.
“Let’s look at the outside before we go inside.”
I showed children the well (yes the real well is still there), the only source of water at school. I asked plenty of questions to get them thinking:
How do you get the water out of the well?
How do you drink the water?
What else was water used for?
Next I said, “There were no toilets. Do you want to see where you had to pee and poo?”
Of course they did! Taking children to the outhouses was fun. I told them with great animation what it was like in an outhouse:
There is a thick, long board with a hole in the middle. You sit on the hole and do your business. No toilet paper.
Silence and wide eyes.
School was summer and winter, because spring and fall were farm work months. You’d be working all day. So, imagine winter here by the outhouse. It took you ‘forever’ just to walk out here.
The outhouse was a great bonding experience. They knew I wasn’t a stuffy, boring old lady. They knew I liked them. They knew I was excited about being their teacher.
I took the children inside the school. The desks (not original) were lined up and children rushed to get a desk. I watched them. They rubbed their hands over the surface, moved about, and thought. Yes, they thought. I knew they were soaking it all in, the way children do.
When you look around, you see there are no electrical lights and no heaters. Light came from this oil lamp I am holding. Heat came from this wood burning stove. Imagine fetching wood from outside in the winter to heat the schoolhouse, so your fingers wouldn’t be stiff from cold, and you could write on your slate. Paper was expensive and scarce, so you wouldn’t have that in school.
I let those thoughts sink in, then I showed children artifacts from the school- a quill pen and inkwell, a water dipper, a dinner pail (dinner was eaten at our lunchtime, and supper was eaten at our dinnertime.) We talked about farming, hard work, and how it was a privilege to go to school.
On the wall at the old schoolhouse is a life-size photo of Eva Belle Torrey, who was a scholar at the school. Alongside are excerpts from her diary. I called the children’s attention to Eva. Her decedents keep in touch and support the Sawtelle School Association.
I read aloud Eva’s three diary entries. Each started with the weather and how many scholars were at school. When she was 11, her friend died. When she was 12, she was going to study Physiology, Physical Geography and Botany this term in the place of History, Common Geography, and Language.
You could have heard a pin drop.
It was time to start school.
We stood to say the Pledge of Allegiance.
Did children know the pledge? Did they recite it daily? I wasn’t sure, but then…
Then we were ready to sing the National Anthem…but there was no National Anthem in 1833. Back then, children sang “My Country ‘Tis of Thee.” I told the children how I called my mother in disbelief when I learned America didn’t have a National Anthem until 1931. I held a pretend phone to my ear and said to children:
Mother, please tell me it isn’t true. Please tell me we had a National Anthem when you were a little girl.
No, Jennie. It’s true.
What did you sing?
“My Country ‘Tis of Thee.”
And so it was. These children stood up, and to my great surprise they belted out the song. It made me proud.
I told children the strict rules in school in 1833. I told them about the forms of discipline with great fanfare:
- Paddling. Oh, there was a paddle from the schoolhouse. My Jennie Story of teacher paddling at my elementary school was a shock.
- Bending over to touch a spot on the floor, and staying there for a long time. I called upon a teacher in the group of third graders to be the ‘victim’, and of course the children loved it.
- Wearing a Dunce Cap. I called upon a scholar to come sit on the tall stool in the corner and wear the Dunce Cap. Very popular!
- Wedging a block of wood in the mouth for whispering.
- Pegging girl’s braids onto hooks. Everyone was pretty shocked at this one. Girls who had long hair and braids instinctively covered their heads.
- Boys wearing a pink bonnet for teasing. Everyone thought this was funny.
Children copied a poem, “Good, better, best” onto their slates. That was not easy to do. When everyone finished, we recited the poem aloud, together. Poetry, reciting, reading, and reading aloud were all key elements in what children did at school. Isn’t that wonderful? Next, every child had a reader, the book that was used in 1833. Children took turns standing in front of the class and reading aloud the story. Oh, it was a great story about a boy who found a bear cub and brought it to school.
Next came Arithmetic. A few of the third graders knew that Arithmetic is math. I wrote problems on the chalkboard and children wrote answers on their slates. They could do addition and subtraction in the thousands. Mental Arithmetic was next, and it’s always tougher. I told a story of a boy who had to collect firewood for the schoolhouse, how many pieces he collected, dropped, and so on. Children wrote the answers on their slates.
Last on the agenda was singing a song from that era. I taught children “She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain.” Oh my goodness, they loved it!
Finally, children asked questions:
What happened if you got sick?
If you got hurt, how would you get to a doctor?
How would they get in touch with your mom or dad?
A few days after being the schoolmarm, I received two thank you notes from children who were there as ‘scholars’. What a wonderful surprise.
Teaching history is important. Children need to know about the past in order to become good citizens in the future.
Jennie
Sam and his best buddy,
A Teacher's Reflections 