First grade.

I started school in 1966. I was 5 years old and turned 6 a couple of weeks later. If there was Preschool or Kindergarten in our school system at that time, I don't remember it. I started out in the first grade.
I recall the very first day. After my mom left the room, I put my head down on my desk. But, I didn't cry! (I came close, though...)
No one had attempted to teach me to read or write or count, or even my ABCs, in preparation for school. I was a blank slate. And naive. Boy was I naive. The first prank that I fell victim to was trading my "little, dirty, old dime" for a "BIG, shiny nickel." That kid, who cursed(!), tormented me well into high school. (He AND his 2 brothers.)
But none of that mattered. I was smart. The smartest kid in my class. And when we started reading, I took off!
Our first grade class was divided into 3 groups: Bluebirds, Rabbits and Squirrels. The Bluebirds were the slowest. The Rabbits were in the middle.
Me? I was a Squirrel.
These were the days of segregation. My school was all white except for one little Mexican boy, who happened to be in my class. He lasted a week and was never seen again.
Our first grade teacher was legendary. She was so old that my brother and both of my sisters (12, 14 and 16 years older than me) had had her as their first grade teacher. Her name was Mrs. Naylor. She had silver hair and seemed to be about 4 feet tall. I vividly remember her acting out "The Billy Goats Gruff." Sometimes she would tell us a fairy was going to visit and we all had to put our heads on our desks and close our eyes. When we were allowed to look, there would be candy on every desk. Once, I peeked and was very disappointed to see Mrs. Naylor handing out treats.
Sometimes, older kids, from the second or third grade, would deliver something to Mrs. Naylor. When they entered the classroom, she would tell us, "This is one of my babies." We would look at them with respect and envy. A couple of years later, I was asked to take something to her room. She said, "This is one of my babies." A whole classroom of first graders looked at me with the same respect and envy. I was an 8 year old Mrs. Naylor alumnus.
Our school was built around 1928. You had to go outside the building to get to the restroom. The boy's room was on one side and the girl's room was on the other. Once, when I returned from the boy's room, a kid told the teacher that he had seen me, from the window, going into the girl's room. This was my first real experience with righteous indignation. Even though I protested, I got a beating - from that sweet, lovable old lady. Yeah, they beat us in those days - with a half inch thick, 20 inch long, wooden paddle, which sometimes had holes drilled in it. The holes were said to make the paddle "sting more" and cause blisters. Also, they improved the aerodynamics of the punishment device, allowing it to be swung faster. Our principle, whose name was Mr. Phipps, but whom everyone (behind his back, of course) called "Flipper," was rumored to be in possession of an electric model, which had holes AND nails. No one had ever seen it, though.
More righteous indignation ensued. Our teacher told us that she had visited Abe Lincoln's log cabin. She tacked a photo of it on the blackboard and asked us to attempt artistic representations of this historical dwelling. I forgot to sign mine. She collected them and stapled them to the bulletin board. About a month later, she took them down. She called each kid's name and handed him or her their drawing. When she came to mine, she asked who it belonged to. Me and the kid who had lied about the bathroom thing both raised our hands. She believed him. I was flabbergasted. I remember walking past his desk, later that day, on my way to the pencil sharpener, and whispering, "That's MY picture." He said, rather loudly, "Mrs. Naylor, Jimmi keeps bothering me!" I was reprimanded. Oddly enough, me and that kid later became best friends.
Once, on my way out of the building, a girl came up behind me and pushed me down the steps, shattering the glass that lined the Thermos in my "Gentle Ben" lunch box. Yeah, they lined kid's Thermos's with glass in those days. My PB+J was not the same, minus the chocolate milk.
Large cards were hung over the blackboard (which was actually black) and the bulletin board, in our classroom, featuring the letters of the alphabet. I remember that N was the nose tickler and S was the sound a snake makes. I could swear that we were taught that A,E,I,O,U, and sometimes Y AND W, were vowels. Does anyone else remember W as a sometimes vowel?
We said the pledge of allegiance each morning, hands on hearts, staring at the tiny flag jammed in the corner of the room. I could swear we said the Lord's Prayer, too - but I won't.