Recently, I have become interested in the one room schools of Kansas. I have learned that one room schools were more prevalent and were in use more recently than I would ever have guessed.
A couple of weeks ago, I attended the funeral of my granmother-in-law, Eula Mae Simpson. She attended a one room school in Garnett, Kansas, and then, at the age of 17, returned to be the teacher there. She only taught for a couple of years, until the time she was married.
At the funeral, I met with Eula’s sister and her husband, both who had attended one-room schools. They regaled me with stories of both the hardships and the joys of attending a school so small that often there was only one student in a grade.
This weekend, I heard more about one-room schools at the Solomon Valley Highway 24 Heritage Alliance’s annual meeting. The event is not only a business meeting for the organization, but is also a chance to recognize the winners of their annual “Call For Voices” writing contest.
The winners could chose to read their winning entry, and thus I heard the first place autobiography. For more than ten minutes, we were held spell bound by Joyce Koops, of Downs, as she read her winning selection, “Silk Purses,” a recollection of attending a one room school house. The author recounted how every year would begin with a new female instructor. It seemed that during each summer, the teacher would get herself married, and I suppose would then either give up the profession and be released by the county superintendent. For whatever the reason, the story was naturally divided by the repeated phrase: “That summer, our teacher married, and that fall, we started the year with a new teacher.”
The one room school was really the teacher’s world. One year, the writer described her lessons as being conducted with “military precision” against the “constant clatter of shoes marching to and from the recitation bench.” The next year, they enjoyed the talents of an “artistic teacher, fresh out of college” who was determined to turn her class of sow’s ears into silk purses. The third year found them with yet another teacher who had them singing hymns at the schools opening day ceremony.
It was a wonderful story, one I could have listened to all day. Afterwards, talking with a lady seated at my table, I remarked at how interesting I found the idea of attending a one room school. My tablemate informed that she had attended a one room school, at least through the first grade. To this day, she didn’t know how her teacher had managed, having to teach first graders who couldn’t yet read to eighth graders who were doing much more demanding lessons.
She remembered older students helping the younger students and she remembered that her teacher was very busy person. Somehow, everyone got along, and at the end of the day, everyone learned.
I admit being a bit fascinated with the idea of a one-room school. Yes, I’m sure many were too hot in the fall and too cold in the winter. I would imagine that most were in want of school supplies and books. Many probably didn’t even have indoor plumbing, and I would guess that a piano or a phonograph were the only technology.
Yet, as I meet people who attended a one-room school, they all seem to have turned out just fine. In fact, all the former one-room students I have talked to seem highly articulate and educated.
I think the positive effect one room schools generally had on the students who toiled away at the “recitation bench” can be attributed to two things: First they were small. Many one-room schools had fewer than twenty students, and I would imagine that none had more than thirty. When a school is that small, it is easy to form the kind of relationships that allow students to feel safe and to feel loved. I will always believe that those two things must be present before any significant learning can occur. One-room schools probably had that sense of family that put kids in the best possible frame of mind to learn.
I would guess that the second factor in the success of one-room schools were the teachers. They may have kept getting themselves hitched, and thus there may have been great turnover, but from the stories I’ve heard, one-room schoolteachers were remarkable educators. They had to be highly organized, flexible, tough, but also caring. They were, after all, so much more than just a teacher.
Teachers of one-room schools performed the roles of custodian, secretary, nurse, and lunch monitor. They were the principal, counselor, vice principal of discipline, and the librarian. In some one-room schools, the teacher may also have been the transportation director, bus driver, and coach. They taught all subjects, including health, art, music, band, and physical education. In essence, a one-room schoolteacher had to be a jack-of-all-trades, and in the process, often became inspirations to the children they taught and loved.
I can only imagine. I am glad to continue their great tradition of public education. Now, though, I know, that for many people in our rural communities, it all began with a single room.
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