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Eva Pasco

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Books
· Aileen's Guesthouse: A Heartfelt Contemporary

· Etta's Fishing Ground

· Mr. Wizardo

· 100 Wild Mushrooms: Memoirs of the '60s


Short Stories
· Rooted in Time

· Drifting with the Tide

· Off the Bunny Trail

· The Profoundness of Pie

· The Chimes

· It's a Wrap!

· The Quest

· Fifteen Minutes of Charred Humor

· The Filing Cabinet

· The Decision


Articles
· Book Review: Contested Ransom by Jack Kregas

· Book Review: The Haunting of Serpent's Manor by Iwan Ross

· Book Review: Overt by P.S. Winn

· Book Review: Drowning in Deception by Judith White

· Book Review: The Light Step by Kristina Gallo

· Book Review: Calamity by the Carwash by Sharon Mierke

· Book Review: Infernal U by J.S. Frankel

· Book Review: Voices by P.S. Winn

· Book Review: A Simple Man by Sharon Mierke

· Book Review: The Weight of Consequence by K.D. McNiven


News
· Book Review: Aileen's Guesthouse by Eva Pasco

· Book Review: 100 Wild Mushrooms: Memoirs of the '60s by Eva Pasco

· Book Review: Mr. Wizardo

· Book Review: Etta's Fishing Ground

· Book Review: Aileen's Guesthouse by Eva Pasco

· Book Review: Aileen's Guesthouse by Eva Pasco

· Book Review: Mr. Wizardo by Eva Pasco

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Whistle Blower
By Eva Pasco
Last edited: Sunday, September 6, 2020
This short story is rated "G" by the Author.
       
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           >> View all 100
Leveling the playing field--or, clearing it.
I’m not talking about a “whistleblower,” one who exposes secretive information, or an activity deemed illegal or unethical within an organization.

No siree!

I’m referring to my role of whistle blower during those days I ruled the roost inside the elementary school trenches in the capacity of teaching.

A whistle entailed one of the necessary tools of the trade for surviving recess duty—in addition to a full-length, down-filled coat and fur-lined boots.

Whistle blowing leveled the playing field, or cleared it of youngsters engaged in a tussle. Short blasts or long, kids knew the shrill.

The other day, while cleaning and organizing my desk drawers, I came across the two originals with lanyards. Earning their keep after my retirement in 2002, these simple, stainless steel woodwinds symbolize 29 years of whistle blowing on the job, namely refereeing kickball games.

Launching my teaching career in 1973, assigned to a fifth-grade classroom, I recall taking over the desk left behind by my predecessor who retired. I stocked the main drawer with necessities associated with the profession, some now considered old-fashioned or obsolete:

A daily planner comparable to the size of 'The Book of Life'. Grade book. A classroom register for balancing daily attendance every quarter and semester. I placed my whistle inside the ledge of that drawer, accompanying several correcting pens.

As Bob Dylan phrased it in the lyrics of his song, “Subterranean Homesick Blues”—“You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows”:

By the time I retired, the minutes allotted for recess were gradually reduced from thirty to fifteen. Not much of an occasion to build up a head of steam in a kickball game. Not much of an opportunity for me to wet my whistle for righting a situation and imparting life’s valuable lessons about fair play and compromise.

It just might take a whistleblower to extol the virtues of school recess.


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Reviewed by Budd Nelson
Reviewed on September 7, 2020
fine memories of your days in the playard

Reviewed by Ronald Hull
Reviewed on September 7, 2020
That whistle of yours has been around nearly forever. But as I recall my grade school days, I don't recall whether monitors had whistled or not. But whistles were always there for sporting events. What I remember of recess was the great socialization part. Without recess, I wouldn't have had many first-time observations of good and evil for me to make conclusions about. And I don't recall teachers coming to the rescue in cases of dispute. But maybe they did.

I'm sorry to hear that schools are eliminating gym classes and recess in order to cram in more studies of dubious worth. A big part of becoming an adult is through socialization. By denying kids opportunities to have direct contact with one another, speaking and touching, something is lost. It's a lonely existence like the "latchkey" children of working parents who have to lock themselves in until their parents come home hours later. Sad.

Ron

Reviewed by A. Frailey
Reviewed on September 7, 2020
Those were the days. Sad to say, I'm not seeing kids out playing like they used to. COVID issues or the new schedule, I don't know. But those were my glory moments as a child—recess with friends, talking, playing, being free for those moments before the drill started again. I pray to God that kids today get something akin to the joys I knew at recess time. A teacher's memories, golden in retrospect, are much the same:) Have a blessed week, Eva.

Reviewed on September 6, 2020

Great memories! We always longed for those days when children were really children at play, and education for children was to teach them love, respect, and understanding; much unlike what is being taught in the "today's" school. Sometimes I really feel sorry for the little innocent children in school today. Children only learn when adults teach them. It is up to the adults to steer our future generation in the right direction.

Sandie