School Daze

I was so excited!  I was ready to start first grade and wanted to learn new things and do fun projects. School was where I wanted to be. The first day I headed out with my brothers and sisters.  

Mama packed my lunch. I don’t remember what was in it, but I just bet it included homemade bread (the best in the world, by the way) and maybe even a coveted Maple Stick.  Surely, she included a special treat for such a monumental occasion. 

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I have no doubt my mother shed no tears as she watched all of us kids, even her youngest daughter, get on the bus. In fact, I am confident a sigh of relief escaped her lips at the thought of peace and quiet.  When the boys were out of the house, you know it was quiet!  We increased the population on the bus and headed off.  Mr. Brown, the bus driver, would have resigned that morning had he known the torment that would come from those preacher’s kids (pk’s), especially one of my infamous brothers!  But that’s another tale or two or more!

I can still remember the classroom. Desks were lined up neatly in rows and we sat alphabetically.  That meant that I sat in the back. Behind the last row of desks were our mats laid out for an after-lunch nap. 

The first day was a bit disappointing, but I was sure it would get better. The next day was a repeat of the first. I didn’t learn anything! Everything was just a review for me. Many of the kids were not even potty trained, much less already reading. 

Excitement turned to dread. Dread turned to upset stomach. Some folks can fake an upset stomach.  But I assure you – I was sick!  Mama came in to get me up the next morning and I told her I had a stomachache.  After the bus pulled off with my siblings, my pains subsided.  The next morning was the same. By the third morning, my mother made me get up and get on the bus anyway. Oh – that was a mistake. I was warped for life.  

I had so desired to learn but they were teaching things I already knew. There was no challenge – nothing to light that spark of curiosity inside of me. It wasn’t until one of my high school years when I was invited to join an unconventional classroom with only a few select students throughout the county that I finally felt fulfillment in school.

I am thankful for teachers who challenge and motivate their students to cultivate those seeds of interest, creativity and potential and dare to step out of “the box.” My kids and grandkids have had some teachers like that, and I appreciate them. 

Every year when it’s time for the grandkids to start school again, it sparks a memory of my first day of school and for some reason, my stomach mysteriously starts hurting.