THE RIDGE
SCHOOL
by
Constance P. O'Shea

Mrs. Constance O'Shea, from the collection of Mrs. Peggy
Homan.
My
mother wrote her autobiography as a gift to me. She was a
wonderful lady and had strong opinions about many things.
One of them was teaching school. This is an excerpt from
her story. In the rural areas throughout our country,
there were many teachers like her. They managed, without
the aid of computers and TV, to instill in their
student's love of country, respect for others, history,
and the multiplication tables. Some of our great leaders
were graduates from a one-room country school.
(Mrs.
O'Shea taught at the one room Ridge school house in
1918.)
Peggy Homan
Daughter of Mrs. O'Shea
The year after
my family moved from Brooklyn to the farm on Ridge Road,
I became a schoolteacher. That spring the local school
trustees came to my parents and asked if I would teach
school for them - they were desperate - teachers were
scarce and none were tempted to live in a lonely farm
region, with small pay. It was just a temporary position.
I wrote to Albany and received a "temporary"
license; took classes in Miller Place and Columbia
University and eventually received my permanent teaching
license. I was 18 years old. And so I started a lifetime
of teaching.
I can remember
the first day I entered the one-room building. The
blackboards were made of wood, painted a gleaming black.
The desks were double seats, scratched and carved with
initials. In one corner of the room was a raised platform
on which stood an old-fashioned parlor organ. The
teacher's little wooden desk was shaky and so was her
chair. In another corner was a tall bookcase and a
cupboard which reached to the ceiling. In the middle of
the room was an old pot-bellied stove. On either side of
the entry was a small room. A ladder in one of them led
to a large attic where books and supplies were kept. The
other room held wood for the fire.
Outside was a
wood shed and, in the rear, two old fashioned privies
with a high wooden wall between them. Just in back of the
schoolhouse was a cistern with a chain pump for hauling
up water.
he rope from
the old bell in the belfry hung down in the entry. I had
to hang on to it to make it ring.
The worn bare
floors were unpainted. On each of the walls except the
north were two very large windows. There were no lights.
The schoolhouse
was situated on a hill, which sloped to the south and
east. It was surrounded by tall oaks and hickories. At
the foot was a large pond. What fun we had eating our
lunch there in warm weather and skating and playing
hockey in the winter. (Teacher included!) The hill was
great for sledding, too.
We loved to
explore the old wood roads and bring in wild flowers and
leaves to identify and press or draw; to gather berries
and wild cherries and, in the fall, chestnuts, butternuts
and hickory nuts. We never seemed to have any accidents -
maybe because teacher was always there!
School started
at 9 AM and closed a 3:30 PM. We had an hour for lunch
and recess both morning and afternoon. It was then that
we played all the old games - tag of all kinds,
hide-and-seek, jump rope, jacks and marbles. But our
favorite was Haley-Over. We made our own pit and bars for
broad and high jumping.
On rainy days
we played indoors - all kinds of blackboard games and
checkers and chess. And we had sitting-up exercises and
folk dances too.
Our little
school grew larger each year. The second year there were
12 children and when I left there were 28. For more than
18 years I taught there and never missed a day of school
- I couldn't - there was no one to take my place to open
the school.
I walked a mile
and a half to and from school. In the winter sometimes
the snow was so deep on Ridge road I could hardly walk
through it. When I reached school I had to make the fire
in the morning. For this I was paid and extra $50 per
year. My salary was $400 for 32 weeks of teaching.
I taught all
eight grades and a pre-first grade also. The seventh and
eighth grade pupils had to pass New York State Regents in
all subjects. How proud I was when our little school had
an average of 100% passing.
As time went on
we had Field Days every late spring. Children from miles
around took part in drills, marching and sports. We
practiced for weeks for this event.
Every Christmas
we had a program of songs and plays, a Christmas tree,
Santa Claus, and oranges and candy. Everybody came to see
- parents, neighbors - the little school was packed.
Closing Day was
exciting too. There were recitations, songs, and always a
play. Certificates and diplomas were given out. Halloween
and Valentine Day - even Easter - were party and fun
days. I supplied the goodies. We celebrated all the
patriotic holidays and-it was a great honor to raise the
flag Opening exercises every morning consisted of the
flag salute, a prayer, and a song, many of which are
never heard today. The Old Oaken Bucket, Columbia, The
Gem of the Ocean, Men of Harlech, My Old Kentucky Home
and others. I played the organ and hoped the singers
would drown out my wrong notes.
To get back to
the first year, I made one of the little storerooms into
a washroom. Each child brought his own towel and there
was a basin and soap and a pail of water. Icy cold in the
winter but I heated it on the stove. There were no paper
towels in those days and no Thermos bottles so we made
soup and cocoa on the stove each day. The children -took
turns preparing the food and washing and cleaning up
afterwards.
We got some new
library books and hung crepe paper curtains at the
windows. The children made all kinds of ornaments to
decorate the room for each occasion. One wall was
reserved for displaying best work. It was a great honor
to have one's essay or spelling paper on the wall for
display to everyone.
We also had a
beloved little visitor come to school each day. He was my
dog, Mickey, a little Irish terrier I had rescued when I
lived in the city. He wasn't supposed to go to the school
- my Mother would lock him up when I started for school
in the morning. But as soon as he heard the school bell
ring, he was off to school. He would jump through an open
window and sleep under my desk all day. The children
loved him and he played in all our outdoor games. They
shared their lunches with him too.
I subscribed to
several magazines for teachers and they gave me wonderful
ideas for teaching, including making lesson plans, plays
for children to perform in and many valuable aids. I
don't think I could have done without them.
Not all times
were good. As more people moved into the area and
children came to our little school from other larger
schools, discipline problems arose. One year I had two
big six-foot boys, both sixteen and still in the eighth
grade. They just sat and thought up disturbing things to
do and one of the things was to see how many spitballs
they could throw. In outward calm (and inward trembling)
I told them to stay after school. "Now", I
said, "you can throw all the spitballs you want and
when your finished you can take the broom and sweep them
up." There was a dead silence - they looked at each
other and then at me and grinned - then they got the
broom and swept them up. I never had any more trouble.
One more thing,
I learned some Polish words. One of the farm families who
had just moved into the area had a little boy who walked
to school with
me every day. I taught him English and in return my
Polish vocabulary became quite good. I still remember
some of the words.
One day the
Superintendent of Schools, Mr. Roscoe Craft, came to me
and asked me to take a position teaching in the South
Haven school. I hated to leave my little Ridge school but
the time had come to move on. Mr. Craft gave me such
splendid advice and help. There were so-called
"bad" children in those days too. But the
parents were helpful - they weren't afraid to punish the
wrong-doers - and neither was I.