Marguerite de Bourgogne

“In my Burgundy of the late 1940s, there was no pre-school or kindergarten. Little ones stayed out of the way of people working in the house or on the property, if they were smart. Others toddled alongside of family members in fields or vineyards if they were considered old enough to help. Often, children who lived with grandparents due to the war years admittedly received a great deal more attention. These little ones developed a greater capacity for creative imagination. It is also probable that a child with more freedom created mischief rather young. Who fears a doting grandma or grandpa’s kiss and hug? No names need be mentioned. In towns and hamlets of rural France, children could start as first-graders as early as age five. What Minister of French Education from Paris would waste the time to travel to those tiny towns of the countryside to spy on attendance? Paris officials in the Bureaux du Ministre d’Education relied on reports from superintendents of counties, who relied on principals of area schools. It was all perfectly official and in the records of each official: officially, of course. Everything from the French government is always very official. In the United States of America, there is said to be red tape. In France, it is blue, white and red. Try shrugging your shoulders helplessly as if to imply, “I’d like to help, but what can I do? My hands are tied.” If you practice saying, “ The law is the law,” over and over again, you too, could become a French government official. About once a year, a superintendent from a regional district would come, inspect the schools and ask questions of a few students in various grades. The teacher would usually pick a good student or two to answer some of these questions. This way both teaching and learning were observed. I have it on good authority, (she, herself), that my mother was often chosen for history, spelling and math. Maman claims that she also excelled in composition. Apparently, she could “embroider” upon a tale. Since her cards and letters to us have always been full of warmth, charm and humor, as well as a hint of fabrication, we have never had any trouble believing her. Big cities followed the national laws quite strictly, or so I found when I moved to Paris later to live with my parents. I had to wait for the proper age to go to school there. A boy or girl had to be six years old to attend first grade. One absolute all over France was that boys had their own schools and girls had their own, both in elementary and secondary. As in Catholic schools, intermingling was thought to impede the progress of learning and promote discipline problems. Who could tell? For if Charles looked at Marie and Marie passed a note to Charles in class, who knew what could take place during recess? Yet, even Paris occasionally bent the rules. I noticed during my first year in Paris that there was one boy in the classroom. My class. This was a great mystery. Why was André the only boy in a girls' school? One day we found out the secret: his mother was the second grade teacher! By the time he turned seven, André would have to transfer to the boys' school in his Paris district. Poor André. He didn't look too tough. He looked happy being surrounded by all girls. At recess, he always shared one of the three outhouses in the courtyard with Annette. He had a crush on her. Maybe to him, peeing together solidified the bond. I wonder how well André did after the change to the boys' school. I think that Annette did just fine all by herself. School in Saisy- It’s elementary, my dear… Saisy was a larger town than most villages in the area. It had a beautiful cathedral from the 12th Century. Near the cathedral was a cemetery that was for all residents who were buried from villages all around. The cathedral is still there, as is its cemetery. The population of senior citizens has increased and, unfortunately, so has the number of deaths. But the size of the little cemetery remains the same, and there is talk. There was, and even today exists, the necessary town hall (la mairie) where the birth of every child born in the commune was registered. That was where Pépère, my grandfather Pierre Blondeau the elder, went to register me the morning I was born. My handwritten birth certificate claims that it happened at four o’clock in the morning. But most importantly, to those of an age tender enough to wither under a stern look from the teacher, Saisy possessed two elementary schools: one for girls and one for boys, following strict French laws. School began the first week in October all over France. La Forêt, La Garenne, Changey, Sivry, and other hamlets belonging to the commune, all sent their youngest to Saisy. When I started first grade in Saisy, my teacher was Mademoiselle Madeleine Marionet. She was the principal and girls’ teacher at our elementary school. By coincidence, she had been a schoolmate of my mother’s at the secondary school in the town of Epinac. In late September of 1948, we had returned from vacation in Soisy-sur-Seine. Papa had gone back to his job in Paris and Maman was spending a few more days with her parents and me in La Forêt when the two school friends met again. Madeleine asked my mother, “So, when are you going to send your daughter to me?” I was not going to be five, much less six, until the end of October, so Maman said that I was too young. But Mademoiselle Madeleine’s answer was, “Close enough!” I was accepted early, like it or not. I wasn’t sure that I would like it.“