Three Lessons I Learned in Third Grade

Picture this: Third grade. Bob haircut so short a my ears could feel a change in the wind. Old Navy T Shirt. Future Hannah Montana super star. Third grade was an interesting year for me and surprisingly I have a lot of stories that come from my third grade year. Here's some hard lessons I learned in the third grade that still resonate with me today.

1. Don't Spit Spitballs at the Cafeteria Monitor

There I was sitting at the cafeteria table with my group of girls and it was my favorite time of day: Lunch. Now, the rules of lunch go like this: talk, talk, talk, talk... eat all your food in the last five minutes. Us girls had a lot to discuss in third grade... trust me. The new cafeteria monitor (we called her Mrs. Dungeon...her real name was Mrs. Dunn), was strict about the rules of lunch, and her rules were not the same as our rules. She enforced an evil thing called 'quiet lunch' where we had to eat our food without talking. Now, I know the logistics of this makes sense and, as an adult, I understand that if kids end up talking the whole time they are supposed to be eating, they go back to class hungry and this creates chaos... but as a rebellious, loud, and future super star third grader, I was not cool with this quiet lunch rule. So my friends and I came up with a super great and productive idea to protest this rule, because as Americans we have a right to peaceful protest, and that idea was to... spit spitballs at Mrs. Dungeon every time she walks by. And so, the spitball fest began and it was hilarious. We counted 7 spitballs that successfully landed on her back and stuck before the goody-goody down the table told on us. Mrs. Dungeon walked over to us as we giggled, blissfully unaware that our mission had been compromised, and she shocked us all when she sent us to the principal's office. Now, I had never been to the principal's office. You see, I'm a teacher's kid, which means I make A's and B's, I raise my hand to speak, I bring the teacher christmas presents, and I do NOT.. under and circumstances... EVER... get in trouble at school and embarrass my mom. I walked the green mile to the office, only knowing where it was, because I volunteered to take the attendance up every morning, and I felt a tear drop roll down my cheek. I knew that this was my end. It's been nice world. I've lived a nice long life of eight years. I'll spare you the "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING' talk and jump to the: I got detention for two weeks and I got grounded for six, and no, apparently your mom won't actually kill you if you get sent to the principal's office.

Walking back to my class, I had a lot to think about, and on the way I stopped at the restroom to wipe my dried tears, where I saw Mrs. Dungeon doing the same. I slowly walked up to the sink and looked over at her.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. She looked over at me and smiled.

"I know. It's just been a bad day for me, that's all." She said back. I picked a dried spit ball off her shirt. "You're a good kid." She said and walked out of the restroom.

I didn't feel like a good kid. I felt like I had hurt Mrs. Dungeon... I mean, Mrs. Dunn, and I had disappointed my mom. The lesson here is bigger than spitballs and I didn't even know it at the time, but the lesson is to always be kind. This is a lesson I would learn time and time again and one I am still learning today. Take the opportunity to smile at your neighbor, to tell someone they're beautiful, and to make an effort to be the better person. Oh, and Dear Lord, don't spit spitballs at the cafeteria lady.. she's just doing her job.

2. Don't hand out autographed pictures of yourself to people who didn't ask for them

Ah. Spring time. Spring cleaning, spring showers, and spring pictures. My mom had taken us to a photographer to get our pictures done and for some reason had ordered forty copies of my picture. They were small pictures, wallet sized, and came on a sheet. After she had mailed a copy to every family member she could think of, she gave me the rest and told me I could give them to my friends. My first headshots. I was ecstatic. I went to school the next day and handed out everyone my autographed headshot and literally said, "Keep these. They'll be worth something someday." I know. Is that not the cringiest thing you have ever heard? What can I say, I believed in myself, is that so bad? Well, in the third grade kids weren't the nicest, so you can imagine the reaction to my headshots that no one asked for. Can I blame them? No, I can't. But through all the laughs behind my back and the boys drawing mustaches on my picture, I kept handing them out and I kept telling people they would be worth something someday. Isn't that something. I wish I had half that confidence and self worth today. But as you get older, you start to compare yourself, the world tells you that you aren't good enough, and that you'll never be a Hannah Montana super star... and maybe that's true. I won't be. But I hope someday I will be that confident again and that I will love myself that much again. Someday.

The lesson in this: Be Brave, Confident, chase your dreams, and don't care what people think, and maybe then you will be the next Hannah Montana.

3. Boys are Mean and I am Clumsy

Boys: a specimen that continues to confuse me, surprise me, hurt me, and not love me. haha. I am convinced that third grade boys are no nicer or meaner than college boys. Does it get better? God, I hope so. But back to third grade recess, another great time of day... most days. Today wasn't going to be a great day, but I didn't know that yet. I headed over to the monkey bars, something I had been working on every day. Some kids can do them easily, but I couldn't, so I was practicing so that I could do them, too. Cue seven or so boys who decided today they wanted to be mean and I was their target. They all gathered at the other end of the monkey bars and climbed onto the end where you land when you finish. They stood on one end, and I stood on the other. I knew what this was.

"Bet she can't do it." The snickered. "She can't finish them, she's too fat!" They laughed.

But I didn't run away. I lifted up my arms and jumped up to do the monkey bars.

First time: made it halfway and fell. Boys laughed.

Second time: made it a little further and fell. Boys laughed.

Third time: Made it all the way and the stuck the landing. Boys pushed me. I fell and broke my arm. Boys ran away.

I walked up to my teacher crying and when she asked me what happened, I didn't tell on them, I just went to my nurse and called my mom. Every time someone asked me what happened I just told them I fell off the monkey bars. I had worked so hard to finish them and I did, and I let a group of boys take that away from me.

It's crazy how things like this happen still to this day. Boys bully women into not going for the things they truly want or make them afraid to come forward with the truth.

The lesson here: Finish the monkey bars and speak your truth.

Who would've thought that third grade could teach such great lessons. Looking back, it was a year of ups and dow

ns, but turns out you can learn alot from your younger self. What important lessons did you learn in third grade? Today, I challenge you to be kind, be brave, and to speak your truth. Be a person your third grade self would be proud of.

I told you the bob was short ;)

Brooklyn Gardner

Former third grader

Detention attendee

Hannah Montana Superstar

Monkey Bar Finisher