Be-Longing

The first day of school in Kindergarten, I was amazed that there were that many kids in the world that were my age! Yes, I saw a few in the playground, but the sea of little heads bobbing around the classroom was news to me.

There was a boy in overalls to my left who kept darting for the exit. He was patiently guided back to his seat several times. I think he knew that his soul was about to be indentured for the next umpteen years. I mused and didn’t quite get it.

Soon I would get it. In retrospect, I wasn’t obedient. I didn’t understand the criteria for acceptable behavior, so my spontaneity wasn’t appreciated by Miss Getcher. I confess that I was looking around, talking, and fascinated with the colors and characters.

As retribution, I was escorted to the coat room. I didn’t know why, but there I was. It was far less interesting to be in that space than in the classroom. The nursery rhyme figures on the tiles above the ceramic hooks were little solace. The coats and I were waiting for something to happen.

Over the next weeks I was relegated to the coat room repeatedly. Emerging from the darkness for “nap time” I wasn’t in a napping mood, so was punished again. Not surprisingly, I wasn’t happy with school. My mother asked why, and I answered, “It’s dark and boring.” My next stop was to the eye doctor!