The Quiet Table

March 1st, 2006 | Comments (5) | Trackbacks (0) |

[The following is a non-fiction account of an experience from my past. Take the time to read it; you won't regret it.]

There are some things that I have surely forgotten about elementary school. One thing that I will not forget, however, is the Quiet Table.

In the elementary school penal system, the Quiet Table was located just above a Time-Out and just below a detention. If someone was punished to sit at the Quiet Table, a clever acronym was used: Q.T. Thus, it was said that you “got a Q.T.”. Believe me, you didn’t want a Q.T. Why? Because the Q.T. was a table in the far corner of the lunchroom, and the rules said you had to get your lunch, sit down, and eat at the Q.T. all without saying a single word. Hence the name.

You also had to miss recess, all the while wallowing in your own self-pity and silence. There was usually at least one kid sitting at the Q.T., sometimes more, and there was always a teacher. The Q.T. teacher’s job was was fairly simple: make sure the inmates don’t speak. The teacher also made sure the kids didn’t turn around, because in addition to eating in silence, they were condemned to facing the wall. You weren’t allowed to see anyone at the Q.T., but everyone could see you. This was always a hot topic of conversation at the regular lunch tables. “Who’s at the Q.T. today?” “It looks like Lance.” “Again.”

Another thing that sucked about the Q.T. was the paperwork. After you finished your miserable, friend-less lunch, you were required to fill out (with the help of the teacher) a mustard-yellow sheet detailing why you ended up at the Q.T. This sheet was to be taken home, signed by a parent, and brought back to school. The sheet had questions like “What behavior led to the student receiving a Q.T.?” and “What will the student do to change this behavior?” and “How can we improve your stay at the Q.T.?” Okay, that last one wasn’t there, but if it had, I would have vehemently lobbied for a la carte reinstatement.

In addition to having you verbal communication privileges revoked, you weren’t allowed a second helping of whatever was on that day’s lunch menu. A la carte = second helping. You had to raise your hand just after the recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance in the morning so that that lunch room could amply prepare for your gluttonous indulgence. Getting a Q.T. on chicken nugget day or pizza day was equatable to pooping your pants in class. It was to be avoided at all costs.

If you receieved 3 Q.T.s — God forbid — it meant that you had earned some special award, like spending the entire day with the principal. The principal, Mr. Hart, was a man of at least 100 years of age who worked at McDonald’s on the weekends. I’m not sure if he knew that this undermined his authority or not. I mean, two days ago, he was dropping hashbrowns (he worked mornings) and taking my order, and today he expects me to treat him as my superior? Well, I probably did obey, because 3 Q.T.s was a serious offense, and who knew what punishment came after spending a day with Principal McMuffin.