Chapter 8 of Tales I Can Remember, by Elsie Swagerty Burton
We located in Santa Clara Valley in a little town called Milpitas. We were on the Los Esteros Ranchero owned by a man named Miles Standish. He was more or less retired and his son, Allen, was slowly taking over the operation. Grandfather Aldrich was foreman on the ranch. He had retired from his farm and had given it to his son, my Uncle Clarance. Dad was hired as the irrigator. It was a 300 acre pear ranch on the Coyote Creek half way between the communities of Milpitas and Alviso. Since the Post Office and General Store used by the ranch was located in Milpitas that was the school chosen for my brothers and me.
At this school the third and fifth graders were in one room. I can still remember my first day there. The fifth graders had their oral reading session. I was amazed at their reading abilities, but after all they were two years ahead of me so I imagined that accounted for their expertise. But when a third grader started reading I just plain didn’t believe it. I just knew some sort of a joke was being played on me when I was asked to read some material myself. Everyone, especially me, knew that there was trouble ahead when it finally dawned on me that there was trouble ahead when it finally dawned on me that they were dead serious about my reading with them. Arithmetic was not much better. My parents agreed to work with me and they tried. Mother tried with reading and writing and Dad with arithmetic. I was sensitive and Dad impatient. Dad and I never did have a very good relationship and this episode only served to reinforce that estrangement.
As for reading, it was always difficult. I can still remember sitting in a circle with first graders learning phonics. I was embarrassed to be there but enjoyed the exercises. I learned it readily, of course, because the lessons were geared to six year old minds. In spite of everyone’s efforts I have always been a slow reader, however, the fact that reading was not easy for me did not seem to lessen my enjoyment of it. During my grammar school days, mother took me to San Jose on some Saturdays to the Court House Library, which was located in the basement on the Court House on the corner of Julian and Market Streets. I would read novels by Victoria Savage. They were strange tales of young girls who fell in love with older men who had some problems on their minds. The men’s preoccupation would be interpreted by the young girls as an indication that their love was not returned. I believe it may have had an adverse effect on my eventual relationship with my husband, it did, however, keep me at reading.
History to me was a fascinating study. The only difficulty with it was the reading, it just took so long. Geography was an allied subject. Learning the locations and areas of the various countries, the topography of the lands, the occupations of the people, all this was avidly devoured. We were taught to outline all of the materials in a specific way and I had this part of my studies done beautifully. It was such a neat and orderly process. The Virgo side of my nature came into play and I was completely happy at the exercise.
Spelling was a subject of considerable pain. I think if I had studied the words diligently I could have done fairly well. But day after day after day, a list of 10 to 20, sometimes more, words was more than I could manage. It was only fitfully that I studied them enough.
Our English studies had several divisions. There was the reading of classics and then the learning of sentence structure and the writing of what was called compositions. We were given two grades on these. One was for the content and interest generated in the subject matter and the other was for the technical aspect of it. That exercise was sometimes excruciating painful and sometimes quite enjoyable. The most difficult part was making a choice of the subjects posted. As a rule, making a choice is not easy for me – Libra, you know.
The subject of Art was touched upon during my seventh year. I remember being directed to sketch a vase still life. I could not get both sides of that vase to be the same to save my life. I turned off on that activity right there and then. I was sure that that pursuit was for the talented only.
From the time we moved to Milpitas my life was not a particularly happy one. First off, my Grandmother decided that since we were living close by that she should start calling me “Elsie” like everyone else. I missed my “Irene.” Secondly, I felt like a dummy at school. Not only could I not compete scholastically, but my nice new wardrobe was completely wrong for the new school. I was considered a kook. Thirdly, I found I was of a minority. In my classes there were never more than two or three of us who were of Northern European ancestors. It was a Portuguese community mostly with many Mexican and Japanese scattered in. The Portuguese people all attended the Catholic Church and their social lives centered around their church and their families. There were many brothers and sisters and cousins and nieces and nephews throughout the school. I felt very isolated.
Grandma and Grandpa Aldrich took me to Sunday School in San Jose on Sundays but that was a sort of outsider relationship too, because I was not able to participate in the activities other than Sunday school. It was during this stretch of time I earned my first Bible. It was awarded for perfect attendance. That Bible got a great deal of use. I carried it with me to Sunday School all through my growing up years.
Swagerty-Aldrich Family Web Site 