Sensory-Imprinted Memories of School...

Fyrefox

Fyrefox

Token fox furry
Location
Pennsylvania, USA
Memories can be imprinted powerfully by scent and sound as well as by sight. What are some persistent memories that you have of things or events from your earlier school days?

For me, I remember these vintage pencil sharpeners, one of which was at the front of every elementary/primary classroom. Used by every student, these sturdy devices emanated a heady smell of wood shavings and pencil lead, and the unmistakable sound of their grinding in operation could be heard from anywhere in the room...

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LOVE this thread!!!

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The Elmer's Glue, we used to rub a little on our hands, let it dry, then peel it off like a layer of skin, and it looked like a layer of skin being peeled off, too!
 
During my junior secondary years, school was many miles away, and for kids like myself who walked to and from school most days, a sports bag was a must for carrying ones brown paper bagged lunch, books, whatever, and these are the bags that EVERYONE had.

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I have several vivid memories from school. One was from back in the 2nd or 3rd grade playing hopscotch with other kids. What I recall from that is the key holders we coveted for using as our markers. They were the ones that are chains of little balls one could put the ends into a clasp so that they stayed together as a closed chain that kept the keys on. They were great for hopscotch because one could throw it just in front of a square and it would roll into the square.

The second sense memory I have is the sight and feel of a 7th grade art project that turned me off to art for many years. We had a ceramics lesson and I made a chick with from an artistic vision of two almost spheres and a cone. The bottom almost sphere would be the the body of the chick and would have a flat bottom so it stood on a flat surface. The second sphere would be near the top of the bottom sphere but to one side of center representing the head and the small cone would be the beak.

My "spheres" were far from perfect and had flat spots and indentations because I hadn't been able to figure out how to make smooth spheres. The cone was OK. The color of glaze I chose was perfect. When it came out of the kiln after being fired I was so disappointed and disgusted with the lumpy, bumpy spheres that I just gave up on art for the most part (except for photography and cinemaphotography.)

Years later when I was separated from my first wife I took a class called Art Without Fear which re-opened me to non photographic art and I started to enjoy painting and drawing again. By that time I also had learned that if someone wants to be good at something one needs to keep at it and learn from one's mistakes and disappointments in order to achieve one's vision.
 
The ever-present odor of vomit. Somebody ralphed about every day or so and the janitor will sprinkle the spot with some kind of ground-up stuff before cleaning it up.

Wax. We had three stories of wooden floor and wooden stairs and they were constantly being waxed.

Marches played on the piano that was on the ground floor. When we marched outside or down to the basement lunchroom, the music teacher always played marches to keep us going.

The "emergency bell". There was a gong-style bell on the ground floor with a cable going up to the 2nd floor and down to the basement so it could be rung from any floor. It was loud and ominous and made my stomach feel funny. I will remember the CLANG-CLANG-CLANG of that bell to my dying day.

The white paste that was dispensed from a gallon-sized glass jar, scooped out with a ruler and given to you on a little scrap of paper towel. It had a faint kind of sour-milk smell and there was always someone in the class who liked to eat it.

The "burning dust" smell when the steam radiators were turned on each fall.

The morning announcements over the speakers that were in each room. A student was chosen each day to recite the Pledge of Allegiance and we chanted along. Then the Principal said the Lord's Prayer while we recited along.

The absolute terror I felt when I saw our Principal. She was scary as hell. I got put out in the hall (remember that?) one day in the third grade for some minor misdeed and she came by. She "invited" me down to the office for "a talk" and I cried so hard I made myself sick. My mother had to come get me.

Grim food in the basement lunch room. Things that kids wouldn't eat, like fried okra and stewed tomatoes. Why things like that? They made us eat everything and, of course, somebody threw up on a regular basis. Every Friday, we had salmon patties and creamed corn. To this day, I won't eat salmon patties and creamed corn.
 
This one never fails to bring on a little melancholy for me.

I remember my baby brother packing his to and from kindergarten each day, mom would pack milk and cookies in it for him, and he always looked so happy and proud carrying it.

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I don't recall a kid in school who's sandwiches weren't wrapped in wax paper, mine included, and to this day I cannot look at or think about mock chicken, because I'm certain mom had shares in the mock chicken sandwich meat plant!

You remember the stuff, it looked similar to baloney but had a bright orange edge on it?

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I remember the white school paste. The boys would show off and eat the stuff.
I had a metal lunch box and always had trouble getting the top off the thermos bottle.
Wintertime I remember the smell of the cloak room as it was called. All damp and humid from our wet jackets.
I had a horrible time getting my leggings and rubbers on. The ones that went over the shoes. Most times I'd shove them in my bookbag and take them out just before I got home and put them on the steps by the back door where we kept our boots praying that my mom wouldn't notice.
 
Related to gym class or PE class, I remember the rope climb (elementary school years). I never climbed high.

Time on the trampoline was the best, and just as the picture shows, spotters were situated around the trampoline for safety.

And then there was this contraption.

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Remember this?

Leaping over it?

And how about the pegboard climb, where you hung suspended by your arms from steel pegs that were inserted into the holes in the pegboard, and holding on by the strength of one arm, you pulled a peg out and repositioned it in the board, moving yourself around the board?

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Does everyone remember cloak rooms?

I remember cloak rooms (just like this) in elementary school, and lockers in junior and senior high.

If you were lucky, your mom sewed and you had a nifty homemade cloth drawstring bag (like me) to put your shoes in and hang them from a hook in the cloak room!

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