She turned out to be a very nice teacher. And her name was Mrs. Crotty, not karate. When I was in her class, I became the spelling bee champion of the sixth grade.
When I have another boy in class some underwear for our Secret Santa, Mrs. Crotty calmed everyone down. I think it helped them refrain from being too rough on me for that faux pas. She helped me transition from one school to another fairly well, I guess.
In the seventh grade, she saw me standing in the hall one day. She said she really thought I would be an excellent student. My grades gradually declined, however. I believe ahe asked me to turn it around and make her proud. I never did.
In the eighth grade, my brother came from the Philippines, and my mother could no longer afford the tuition. So I went to public school. And there I was able to slack off even more.
Sometimes I would hang out in front of my old Catholic school. Once in a while I would see some former classmates. One of them told me she died from cancer or something.
I felt sad. But I felt comfort at the fact that her soul had gone to Heaven with God. I strongly believed in that stuff at the time.
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