The Letter People was (and is) a children’s literacy program that taught kindergarten-age kids to read through a series of characters based on each letter of the alphabet. I always felt bad for Miss A, which stood for A’choo. She was stuck for all of time with a cold, always having to work a box of kleenex into her wardrobe as an accessory.

Each letter had its own theme song, which my teacher, Mrs. Wilson, would play on a vinyl record as we all sat around excitedly listening. I can still sing about 85% of the lyrics to this day, which is either eternally sad or really awesome…

Back in 1984 when I was in kindergarten, you actually got your own set of Letter People to take home and study. Debuting in 1968, the illustrations on the 4.75x4 cards are very emblematic of the period. Each card consisted of an illustration of the character on the front, and a poem about the character on the inside. As I recall, you had to circle all the instances of the letter in the poem, and then you got a big red sticker of the letter to stick on the illustration, showing your mastery of that letter.

Most kids did the assignment, got their sticker, and that was it. My brother was this way — his letter people to this day look brand-new. Perfect 90-degree corners, uncreased, the only markings indicating usage being the circles around the letters on the inside panel of each card.

Not mine. Oh, no…the state mine reside in has been the cause of much laughter in the House of Nemitz. My brother and his wife, upon seeing my slightly altered versions of the Letter People for the first time, laughed hysterically and called me a dork. I laughed too, but only because I couldn’t believe I’d done such crazy work at such a young age…

Yes, the assignment was just the beginning of the experiment for me. Mine were turned into a bizarre experimental art project, the aesthetic of my six-year old mind turning them into scarcely recognizable shells of their former selves.

The tools of my trade were scotch tape, Crayola markers, hole punches, ink stamps, scissors and in the case of Mr. V, velvet sticky strips. Mr. V was very vain, you’ll recall, and his vests were never dull or plain; he wore velvet vests of varied blends to visit with his very best friends. Well, his vest on my card was actually velvet. You bet.

Not only that, Mr. D and his delicious donuts has actual donut stains on the card. Mr. R and his Ripping Rubberbands has big holes in the card from where I had shot actual rubberbands at him. Miss O had her feet cut off, presumably because she was an eternal optimist and I wanted to see if could still be optimistic without any feet. Mr. T has red-orange teeth after I colored them; this must have made him very self-conscious considering he had Tall Teeth that were quite noticable to begin with. Mr. H had Horrible Hair, and once upon a time I gouged his eyeballs out with a hole punch, and then must have peeled some scotch tape off because the printing is gone off half of the card. Miss U is translucent, the result of being held together with tape and well, more tape.

My mother says my Letter People were well-loved. But its clear from the destruction I wreaked upon them 22 years ago that I was either completely insane or getting my feet wet as a fledgling artist even at such a young age. The former is probably true depending on who you ask; the latter most definitely is. Who knew that The Letter People would not only teach me how to read, but be such a portent of the future?

Now, its time for you to decide: look at some of the cards, and laugh like my brother and his wife at me, or take my side and stand in awe. Awe as in Awesome, of course.

Mr. M Mr. V Mr. B Mr. H Mr. F