(photo: Dreambox Learning)
My memories are as faded slides of someone’s summer vacation packed in a box in the attic.
Wooden floor, worn and scared by dragged desks, and kicking feet. Open multi-paned windows or shut, steamy from the groaning radiators. Dust motes, and the smell of chalk.
Half-days spent on alphabets, numbers, and printing names; time spent tracing the already familiar curves and straights. Learning to stay inside the lines, that the sky is blue, the grass is green.
Rows of mats during nap time, each child an island in the sea of the floor; then the daily tinny-tasting apple juice.
Mittens on strings, buckle boots, one-piece snowsuit; rain jacket and puddle splash-boots. Tiny cubicles with hooks to neatly hold the seasonal gear.
Some memories so hazy and shape shifting in time; could be grades 1 or 2. But naptimes and juice times and cubicle times part of kindergarten slide show of remembories.
{Had to run with kindergarten as the theme; can’t actually remember many (any?) first days at school from kindergarten on, lol.}
I have no memories of kindergarten. I didn’t go!
It wasn’t required when I was small, and my mother stayed at home, so I went straight to the first grade.
First day of school in the first grade. I remember my mom taking me, but I left her at the door with a wave and a blown kiss and ran off to find my seat.
(I think she was a little hurt.)
The only time I really remember my mother and school was the day she walked over to escort me home because freezing rain was making the sidewalks very slippery. I usually walked home by myself or with neighbo(u)hood kids. Must have been between kindergarten and the end of grade 2. She was holding my hand, telling me to be careful not to fall, and next thing I know, I’m holding on to her glove, not her hand, and she’s laying on the sidewalk! Since she wasn’t hurt, I can look back and smile on that one!
Otherwise, no memories of my mother dropping me off/walking me over. I hated school so I think I’ve blacked out most of those years. Still have a few of the really horrible stuff kicking around in the back of my brain. Remeber high school grade 9 to 10 better than most years. But, I don’t want to own up to that time, lol.
I know what you mean. I hated High School. We moved right before I started, and I never fit in..all the things I did trying to fit in…then BiPolar started and no one knew it. Yes, High School was hard. My 30th reunion in the 29th, think I should go? (funny I kind of had an evil laugh come out when I asked that…wonder what that means?)
If I went to ANY reunion, I’m not sure that ANYONE would remember who I was. And, I KNOW I don’t remember too many names; a few faces, but after all these years, would I even recognized what’s his name, and his friend “who’s on first” and their girl friends “what’s on second” and “I don’t know’s on third” (aka Abbott and Costello’s baseball routine.) But seriously, I’ve tried to forget a lot of it. Moved for grades 11 and 12 — so don’t remember much. And, for various reasons, I don’t remember much about 9 and 10, but we won’t get in to that — too inciminating (spelling), lol.
I have to remember some of their names. There were only thirty some odd people in my graduating class…..well at that school. Funny thing is, I moved the last half of my senior year, and I didn’t even graduate from that school. But they invite me anyway. I think that’s weird. But I wouldn’t go to the other school’s reunion either….there were about 300+ in my graduating class and I knew about 20…and can’t remember most of them. They will friend me on Facebook, and I think…who the heck are you? But Facebook is such a Farcebook…I probably didn’t really know him…her…them….or that!
and the incrimination…oh yes…too much..and too much I don’t remember.
I could see someone coming up to me saying, “you remember when we….” and I’d look at them like….who are you?
Also I know all the nerves, noise, blustering of the day would make me have an attack. Just too much stress. No. If those few who want to see me, really want to see me, we can get together some other way.
I think I have this way too much on my mind. (hey, last night I dreamt my father was trying to kill me…what does that tell you? or what does it tell me? and we are supposed to visit him soon.) What a wondrous thing family is.
I changed schools alot as we moved around every year and half or so for awhile. I imagine I forget alot of it because, like you, I found it very scary starting a new grade in a new school.
What memories I do have tend to blend together. Only certain episodes can be tagged with a certain class or grade.
I found several class photographs from grade school when I was packing up my mother’s house. I remembered most of the faces (and could even put some personalities with the faces), but most of the names escaped me.
My memories of kindergarten are very scanty ~~ as far as the first days of each school year, I remember being petrified. Always had to have one of parents go with me on the first day.