5th grade. My teacher at the time had a behavior chart that was based on a colored star system. I don’t recall the color correlation to what was bad or good, but I do remember the day I was aiming straight for the bad side of the chart.
The day started as any other day. I am sure I was being loud, doing my work, but still having a good time. Being the occasional class clown has always followed me, which more than likely comes from my brother. I don’t recall what triggered my maniacal drum session that took place, but I am sure at least a handful of my classmates would recall it if I were to bring it up….if I ever contact them again.
The class was quiet, faces stiff with concentration pointing towards their desktops. Perfect time for me to take my behavior to another level. I start playing the drums not only on my desk, but the surrounding student’s as well. The teacher, wish I could remember her name, immediately tells me to stop. I continue. She is yelling for me to quit. POUND POUND POUND, DRUM FILL. Everyone in the class doesn’t know what to do as I continue my mission. Some giggle, some stare, others wonder what the teacher is going to do. POUND, POUND, POUND… cymbal splashes were provided by my best Winslow-esque accuracy. The teacher storms over. I know my solo is coming to end. I slam both hand on my desk as the crescendo reached it’s full level of badness and I close it out with my best cockney accent, THANK YOU! GOOD NIGHT!
I don’t recall if this was my first time to the right of the chart, but I am pretty sure it wasn’t my last.