Remember your first day of Kindergarten? (Called “kindygarden” by the old-time locals.) I don’t either, except I know I couldn’t wait to get there. I think my mother would have preferred a few tears, maybe even a wail or two from me, but not from this kid.
Her experience with her “baby” was way different than with her first-born, my brother.
She chuckled as she told me this story years later about his first day. It seems that Bobby, the eventual uber jock, later called “Ace” by his teammates, was very devoted to our mother as a little boy. When she escorted him to his Kindergarten room, he cried and clung to her, so much so that she decided to stay in the classroom FOR THE ENTIRE SESSION—only a half day then.
The next day as she and Bobby approached, my mother noticed that the door to the classroom was closed, so she knocked. The door opened a crack; the teacher peered out, grabbed my brother by the hand, yanking him into the room and slammed the door in my mother’s face. The poor woman cried all the way home. But Bobby (and my mother!) learned that school was not a family activity.
Meanwhile, back to my own first day, I loved Kindergarten from the minute I set foot in the big, sunny room, barely waving goodbye to my mom. Since there was a half-year system, I entered in January, which may explain the absence of “first day” pictures. After I had completed my half year, the system changed, so I attended another whole year.
To put it bluntly, I had the system “wired,” by the time I left. We colored, seated at little tables of four and I controlled the communal crayon box, doling out colors upon request, if they asked nicely. I knew the trick to getting in line early for one of the easels, where we painted and took our masterpieces home to our mothers. I vaguely remember finger painting, too, which ended with more paint on me than the paper.
A big round rug graced the center of the room, where we gathered for circle time at the start of the day, reciting the Pledge of Allegiance before getting down to business: share time or hearing a story read by our teacher. The talented lady also played the piano, so we had lots of musical fun. I was a big fan of Musical Chairs and Farmer in the Dell, even when the farmer didn’t choose me as his wife. I didn’t stand on ceremony and would settle for being the cheese or even the rat. My pal remembers London Bridge and Ring Around the Rosie, but those weren’t favorites. She says we also drank milk from tiny glass bottles, but I don’t remember that. It must have been white milk. I’d have remembered chocolate.
The only thing I DIDN’T like was naptime. I took a small rug to school that first day labeled with my name, and had to lie on it, as we listened to soothing music playing in the background. I was bored to death because I hadn’t napped in years. Occasionally a kid would wet his or her pants and we all felt embarrassed for them and were glad it wasn’t us.
The highlight of the year came at Christmastime, when our hard-working teacher shined a spotlight on each child individually, traced the shadow on black construction paper, cut it out, and mounted it on a large gray construction paper background. She even wrapped each one for us! How in the world she had the time and patience to do that for 28 kids, I’ll never know, but that provided each of us a Christmas gift for our parents.
That happy first experience set the stage for my love of school. No wonder I'm smiling so happily in this photo taken on my first day of First Grade.
Comentarios