My mother taught kindergarten at Holy Name in New Orleans. She taught for more than twenty years.

One of her more memorable events was having an active lad named Hamilton in class. It was “Hamilton, sit down”—”Hamilton,  don’t pull her hair” – “Hamilton, Hamilton, Hamilton…”

Next year, my mother was on the yard one afternoon and Hamilton came over.  “Hi, teacher.”

“Hello, Hamilton. Do you like first grade?  Head shake, Yes.

“Do you like your new teacher?”  Head shake, No.

“Why don’t you like Mrs. McNamara? She’s a very nice lady.”

“She’s always correcting us.”

“Well, Hamilton, I had to correct you a lot, too.”

“Yeah, teacher, but even when you corrected us we knew you loved us.”

A story to keep in mind.