By Lindsay Tice,Staff Writer

LEWISTON – She stood in front of the class in clear plastic high heels, her blonde hair long, her ears pierced six times, all the way up to the top.

Her kindergartners thought she was lovely.

“She looked just like a princess out of a fairy book,” said Sandy Bixby, then 5.

It was 1957 and the Soviet Union had launched Sputnik, Wham-O had introduced the first Frisbee and young teachers didn’t get multiple piercings.

At Martel Elementary School, the 65 kindergartners were captivated by their first teacher. She was a dynamic, dramatic 20-year-old who liked to sing and give hugs.

Nearly five decades later, with a shorter hairstyle and lower heels, Sandi Coolidge still weaves her way among the tiny desks, doling out lollipops and red race-car stickers to kids who finish their work. She calls them “Honey.” They count her earrings and tell her she’s beautiful.

But Coolidge’s kindergarten kingdom won’t last much longer. After 48 years, the fairy princess is retiring.

“I know I’ll have a hard time,” she said. “Kindergarten’s my charm.”

Broken heart

Born and raised in Auburn, Coolidge always hated school. She still can’t forget the pain and embarrassment she felt when her fifth-grade teacher hit her with a ruler.

“I said, This is not right.’ I went home and told my mother, I want to be a teacher and never do that,'” she said.

On a hot fall morning, Coolidge – then Sandi Tinkham – walked into Martel Elementary. She had more than 30 kids in the morning and more than 30 in the afternoon, with no help in either class. She was expected to teach kids to share, to raise their hands, to tie their shoes.

After a few years, Coolidge transferred to Pettingill Elementary, then Montello School. In 1969, she moved to the city’s newest school on North Temple Street.

For decades, she’s been in the same large McMahon Elementary School classroom, where she’s known for her all-out, pretend trips to Hawaii.

But in recent years, kindergarten has changed.

State and federal guidelines say Coolidge must teach reading, writing and math. Kindergarten has standards. Kindergartners must pass tests.

Although she tries to keep lessons light, some kids aren’t ready for the pressure. She feels like she’s setting them up to fail.

Coolidge had planned to stay in the classroom for 50 years. She had the energy and it looked like an easy goal.

But this year, some of her most frustrated kids told her they hated school. She’d never heard that from 5-year-olds. It broke her heart.

Coolidge, 67, and a divorced great-grandmother, is also raising her 11-year-old grandson. When she spends time with him, she doesn’t want to be worn down by work.

So this year she announced her retirement. She waited to tell her students until they saw it in the school yearbook.

It took some explaining.

“One of them thought you died when you retire,” she said.

I love them’

Since the announcement, former students have flooded the school with letters. Mounted on a crooked blue bulletin board in Coolidge’s classroom, some of the letters thank her in careful fourth-grade script. Others contain snapshots of former students, now very grown-up.

Some of the “thank yous” have come in person. After 48 years in the classroom, Coolidge now teaches the children and grandchildren of past kindergartners.

On Thursday, a day before students left for the summer, Coolidge read and coached children on their numbers. Sweeping across the room, she never missed a chance to compliment a child.

When the morning class left to see a movie, she sat in the classroom and talked about her kids. Looking around at the books and faded posters, tiny desks and crayons, she thought about saying goodbye.

She plans to come back as a substitute teacher, but she knows it won’t be the same.

The kids won’t be hers any more.

“I love them,” she said.