Making the Grade

I am reminded of a day long ago. I

was in my junior year at Hampshire

High School in Webster Groves,

Missouri. I was absent from my

classes that day, more than likely

feigning an illness so that I could stay

at home and draw. It was a practice I

had often employed with some reg-

ularity throughout my formidable

years. Frankly, the whole regimental

school thing was distasteful to me.

I never did well in my studies, barely

got by in math, English and history.

As an adult much later in life, having

analyzed my history, a psychologist

diagnosed me as having ADD. Back in

the early 60s little was know about that

disorder. Teachers and parents alike said

that I was just not applying my abilities

as I should. I did excel in art, however,

achieving straight “A”s in every grade

from the first throughout my school

years. My sick days were never a waste.

I didn’t use my absentee time to do the

homework I had failed to do the night

before, but rather spent my day drawing

cartoons and the like. On his way home

from school, a friend of mine dropped by

my place to check on me. Realizing that I

had more pictures to draw, I told him that I

was likely to fake illness yet another day.

My friend thought my cartoons were pretty

good. Better than I could ever do in a million

years, he told me. And for me that was as good

as any grade I could have earned at school on

any given day. This is Cassius Clay boxing and

knocking the crap out of the “Big Bear,” Sonny

Liston, I told my friend. Looks just like them.

Pretty damn good, he said. Another day and a

grade “A” as far as I was concerned. In the

years to follow, I learned nothing about ADD, and

realized that my academic attempts would likely

never improve. I would have my art, though. And

what the hell, if nothing else, I could always draw.

Months later in November of 1964 at age seven-

teen, I dropped out of school, and enlisted in the

Army. No more faking sick days for me.

Chris Hanch 11-27-18