I received word last week that two of my favorite high school teachers had recently passed away in the span of a week. Home Economics is not taught anymore, but in rural Monroe, Louisiana in the 1960s, it was taught lovingly and with a purpose of helping girls to learn homemaking skills. We learned to sew, how to cook, clean, do laundry, and set a proper table. Of course, some of us were taught these skills at home by our mothers and grandmothers, but high school home economics took homemaking to a higher level.
Mrs. Alma Ruth Simmons (later she remarried and became Cooper) and Mrs. Marie Adams, along with the deceased Mrs. Ivory Covington, held down the Home Econ wing of Carroll High School. The wing was attached to the main building by a breezeway and the lunchroom, and the wing was shared by the Science department for awhile, until a new building was constructed on the other side of the athletic field to house Math & Science. It was a large school, and more than a little intimidating for incoming freshman.
Our principal Henry Carroll (whose name was on the side of the building) ran the school with steely discipline. We marched in an orderly fashion to our classes, did not talk in the hallways, and were quiet as we could be when allowed to go to our lockers. Boys had to have shirttails tucked in, girls were not allowed to wear pants, and no one was allowed to wear jeans (denim was the stuff that laborers wore).
In this strict, segregated public school environment, there were spots of pure joy for me, a quiet and shy only girl child of a factory worker and a housewife. There was French, where a whole new world opened up to me with Mrs. Major; History, with jovial Mr. Jones, who made history so vibrant that I majored in it in undergraduate school; and then there were my Home Econ classes.
Going into the Home Econ wing brightened my day. We girls would lean forward in our seats to get everything that was being taught. We sewed and made skirts, dresses, and blouses with pride. We cooked and even our failures were lessons learned in the kitchen.
These teachers were teaching us GRACE. Because they all knew my mother, Willie Mae Smith, they took extra time with me, were patient, strict, but very kind and loving. I will never forget the lessons taught by Marie Adams and Alma Ruth Simmons Cooper. Their families are in my thoughts and prayers today and may they both rest in peace as good and faithful servants.
