What I remember about art and second grade

I learned to make clay elephants. I completely failed to make any impression on the visiting artist and cried as I tried to draw a tricycle. Wait, was that in Grade 3? Nevermind go back to second grade. A "new boy" who had been my friend at the apartments in Watervliet showed up. He drew a diamond on an apple to make it look shiny, and some kids made fun of that, but I thought it was really cool.

Making the ugliest poster in class and being told "That's not the kind of poster that wins prizes." Skip foward a few days or weekends. I was reading a book in the car. Was it about a mouse? Throwing up on myself on the way home from my father's place. Stopping off at the babysitter's house for a change of clothes and mother was mad. (Shame shame shame...) Being dropped off at school even though I had just been sick (I'm I was wearing different clothes.) There was a school assembly. As I walked into the auditorium, a big kid from my busstop, I who I thought was mean and I was afraid of him, excitedly jestered (sic!) at me. When the teacher saw me, she pushed me towards the front of the auditorium. Then the principal presented me with a trophy. I felt hot with embarrassment and engulfed by the noise of the applause. "There must be some mistake." He bent over kindly. "Oh, there is no mistake." Later, I sat at my desk and my trophy turned magically pink! It reflected the color of my sweater. I was slapped by my friends on the bus when I rode it home. "I'm so jealous!" they said as they hit me.

The winning posters were later displayed at the firehouse. I went there with my brownie troup. Which one is yours? the girls said. I showed them. I still didn't think it was that great. They didn't disagree with me. I turned it over, to hide it. We ran off to play. We climbed on fire engines. I was happy to leave it behind. I'd thought that another kind of poster would win. "Don't do this" it said, and showed a fork going inside of a toaster. I thought it was much better-looking.

At some point, teachers enlightened me as to the merits of my poster. I'd tried to draw the whole apartment filled with smoke and flames, and indicated the safety route for me and my mom and my sister. We were three small figures of greenish-yellow, a crayon color that no one but me seemed to like. The teacher suggested that maybe our figures could've been a darker color.

I also remember the girl who was kind of like the class artist. She lived on a farm and brought in a squash that was made into a small animal (maybe a pig.) Not hard to remember her name, since I was told a story of what happened the year before, when the principal had announced over the intercom: Eula Bus your Biss is here!