Dumb and Ugly - Part 2, The Fifth Grade

Harry S. Truman won the Presidency in 1948, I don’t recall his election, but do remember all thereafter. My fifth grade teacher, Miss Gilbert, brought a radio to school in 1952 so we could hear an address by him. That was a big deal in those days. The class, filled with awe at the gravity of the event, sat in complete silence. It impressed me enough to remember, even yet, that he spoke about a steel strike and recent actions he had taken.
The country enjoyed a growing prosperity throughout the fifties. Industries ran at full capacity, business boomed. The only people without jobs were the ones not looking. I often heard phrases that suggested the nation looked boldly into the future, and was fearlessly marching in that direction. The General Electric Company frequently aired its motto, "Progress is Our Most Important Product”, and that statement, more than any, accurately expressed the mood of the era . The fifties offered endless opportunity, but didn't appear to hold much promise for me.

Miss Gilbert handed out copies of The Weekly Reader, a newspaper-like publication of current events. Each edition contained a half dozen articles, followed by four or five questions. Every student got a copy. I remember desperate searches through articles, looking for answers that didn't seem to be there. My classmates found them, busily penciling responses while I groped, mystified by their ability.

Math was no easier. School got more difficult with each passing year, but I made no progress. I had not failed any of the elementary years, my grades always managed to raise to a passing level; but they were nearly at that point of neutral bouncy and floated with just the top of the "D" showing. The way things were going I had no doubt my grades would eventually sink to any level I chose, and that most likely would be on bottom.

Grandmother Frank worked at the American Legion as a cook. I often walked the few blocks from Central to the Legion for lunch. I would eat in the kitchen with Grandma and hang around for the remainder of the period. One day she stepped from the kitchen to find me sitting in the hall close to the door. A look of surprise came over her face. It was mixed with sadness. "You heard what I just said." Her tone was such that I couldn’t tell whether she had made a statement or asked a question. I asked her what it was but she would not tell. After a while I didn’t persist - I knew. Some people may not know they are dumb but it is humiliating when you do. It grinds on you. My family didn’t taunt me with the fact, but we all knew. I don't remember anyone ever saying anything. They loved me, but everyone knew that little Joe was a bit slow. They thought I’d grow up to dig ditches or have some other menial job.
GO TO: Part 3: The IQ Test