FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL
By now, I guess all schools have started. School seems to start a little earlier every year. When I was growing up, school never started before Labor Day. Even though stores were open all year long, there was always the ritual of buying your school wardrobe. It was as if once school started, there would never be a chance to buy clothes again. When I was very young, my mother took my sister and me downtown on the bus to shop. As the years went on, my mother learned to drive (at 40, bless her heart) and shopping centers in the suburbs developed.
Dark cottons. I haven’t heard those words in years, but we always shopped for dark cottons. That meant lightweight clothes in fall colors - mostly plaids as in the picture above - that would see you through the wilting heat of the midwest Indian Summer in late September. I still think longingly of dark cottons and plaids as fall approaches, though no one who grew up here in Southern California would know what I was talking about.
The above picture must have been my first day of Kindergarten (teacher: Mrs. Samuels). Don’t I look a little apprehensive? I think I was just ready to move on - the bus is waiting, get the picture over already! I still get that look if someone takes too long to take the picture. A funny note: look very carefully and you’ll see Nancy, my friend across the street, peeking out from behind me. I love the socks, the hair ribbon, the saddle shoes! This tall little girl (I am and always was tall) didn’t know she was about to fall in love with books … much less that she would write them some day!
This picture must have been the first day of First Grade (teacher: Mrs. Steinmetz). First grade was when I wore my hair in braids. I had school down by then. Don’t I look more confident? Besides, I got to go to school (usually walking except in bad weather) with my sister, Janet, who knew the ropes. What could go wrong? Nothing did.
All in all, I loved school. Sure, I loved learning but I loved the social aspects as well. And I knew that with each new year, I was growing up. I liked that. Nice to know that I’m still learning and growing up on a daily basis. Over the last two years, I’vd reconnected with a couple of people I grew up with, especially Dale Gebhardt, who lived in my neighborhood and was in school with me from K-12. He has a much better memory than I do. He probably remembers the bus driver that day. More about bus drivers (Carl, particularly, and Sam) some other time. (Hint: I always think of Carl at Easter.)