::simple request::
Please don’t anybody get ahead of me on this. Over the next few weeks, I’ll start new threads for each year of school, at least each year of school I’ve been through (which should take us through our first master’s degrees) :).
That being said, I’m new here and I’ve already made a few mistakes in the being-too-negative vein, so I’d like to try to (a) make up for any hurt feelings with a feel-good thread (I’m stil trying to re-earn lunasea’s compliment after my very first post), (b) let you all get to know me, and (c) get to know a little about all of you.
So, what your favorite (not necessarily happiest) memory from kindergarten?
I’ll start:
My first GF. Her name was Fran (sorry Fran, I don’t remember your last name – this was before I really understood that anybody but grownups had last names), and she was more woman than my little 5-year-old mind could take! She was sweet, she shared her pre-nap snack with me when mine wound up on the floor, and she came over to comfort me when I got picked on (not infrequently, seeing as I had a GF).
During outside play I scaled the six-foot chain link fence, with barbed wire on top, and ran all the way home. A half hour later, the Kindergarten teachers showed up with the military police (Obviously this was a Military base).
I would not open the door. Our next-door neighbor talked me into coming out when she said I could stay with her until my parents came home. When I opened the door, the Kindergarten teachers grabbed me and carried me back. I kicked them the entire in the legs all the way back. Served them right too, for lying to me like that.
Mom said they had the biggest black-and-blue marks on their legs. Punished? No, my dad, a Marine, thought it was funny as hell.
Actually most of my memories from kindergarten were pretty awful. I had a mean ogre for a teacher who had it out for me. In hindsight though, there was a really nice aspect to it that I didn’t hear about until later.
My meanie teacher decided that I was retarded and that perhaps I should be put in a special school. My mom wouldn’t believe a word of it so my teacher suggested in a huff that perhaps she should have my IQ tested. “Sure, why not,” my mom said. So I was tested. My teacher was infuriated by the results: the testers had decided that I was actually gifted!
I’m sort of sorry to say that I got to play in the three little pigs. I don’t remember how it happened but I got to be the wolf. I had the carboard cutout head for the big bad wolf and did just fine kicking down the house made of cardboard boxes(the straw), then on to the one made of cardboard boxes and broomsticks(the twig house). Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin. They made a house of large wooden blocks, and I came and kicked that down too. I guess I couldn’t help myself. the pigs in the house got very upset, I remember some crying. I blew it. Other than that there’s only the halloween party with the blindfolds …sounds worse than it was. Teachers has us all stick our hands into gooey suff like cold noodles, tomato sauce or jello, all the while telling us it was brains and guts and blood. I peeked, and I remember seeing the spaghetti and getting some comfort from that. Or, wait, it’s all coming back to me know… tests, the bus, lots of shit…
I remember my teacher being very old and forgetful, so often during our play time we would go on the jungle gym and stay at the top after play time was over, so even if the teacher remembered us, she couldn’t come get us.
Birthday pencils.
Playing with my male childhood friend who I just saw today after 6 years of not knowing of his existence. Damn he got fine! Now how to seduce him…
Were were all playing in the yard and some kid, Jonathan Romero threw a brick and hit some kid in the head. The school nurse rushed over and began checking the level of consciousness. She was asking him the date, who the president was and what color the sky was. I kept holding up my hands in the circle formed around them. I yelled at him when he didn’t know. “C’mon! These questions are so easy. How come I never get these!?”
That was my little memory…
-DW
I had a girlfriend when I was in kindergarten. Laura was her name. I don’t remember whether we actually declared that we were boyfriend and girlfriend; I think that this might explain the confusion I have in relationships now. I actually went to dinner with her (and my mom, and her mom) and I kissed her once, behind the tree in the playground. I wonder whatever happened to her. I remember the day when I left to go to 1st grade… she just waved goodbye like I was coming back tomorrow, and I never saw her again. One of these days I’ll ask Mom why it was that they stayed in kindergarten while I left… maybe it was a summer thing, I dunno. Of course, I haven’t had any luck with women since… sigh
Ah, kindergarten. If, for some reason, I ever have to live a year of my childhood over again, please gawd let it be kindergarten. After that things pretty well sucked until college, but that was one golden year… I loved my teacher. Gave her a cactus for Christmas. (I don’t remember why it was a cactus, but I remember the gift.) Years later, when I was a teen, she saw my mom in a store. “Cindy’s mom?” she asked. Yes, my mom said. “I’m Miss Shannon. Her kindergarten teacher. Would you please tell her the cactus is still growing?”
Favorite memory? I could read, and I got to go to first grade once a day as a result, for reading class. On the last day of school, Miss Shannon gave me a present, a children’s dictionary. (She knew I loved the “Peanuts” strip, so it’s “A Charlie Brown Dictionary”.) I still have it, it’s on loan to my six-year-old (with orders to take good care of it or mamma will have a conniption).
I recall having a crush on a girl right at the end of kindergarten. Then school ended, and I never saw her again. Little did I know that was going to be the story of my life with females.
I don’t remember her name, however. It was 1969–I have a lot of trouble remembering stuff more than 30 years.
Reading a book all by myself. I could read before kindergarten, but never just sat down by myself to read a book. I always read with my mom, who helped me if I found a hard word. Well, one day during “free play” I picked up a book, (I think it was Cinderella) and took it into a corner all by myself and read it cover to cover. I was SO proud of myself! That was the beginning of a life-long passion for reading.
Learning to read–or rather, realizing that I could read already. I remember our teacher noticing that I was bored with the silly stuff they had you do in kindergarten; she took me aside and handed me a book, and said (probable paraphrase): “Every letter makes its own sound, so you just…” Then I interrupted by starting to read the book aloud to her. Within a week, I was reading my first-ever science fiction novel–in class–and loving it. They didn’t teach kids to read in kindergarten in my day, so I collected a lot of odd looks–which amused me.
The first day of school, I cried and cried. I just didn’t want to be away from home with all those strange folks. My mom stuck around after dropping me off, just to see how things were going and saw me through the window.
When she picked me up that afternoon, she told me I’d been crying. I couldn’t figure out how she knew that, so I asked. She said that a little bird had told her.
Next day at school, I kept looking out the windows trying to find the bird that tattled on me.
– this was before I really understood that anybody but grownups had last names), and she was more woman than my little 5-year-old mind could take! She was sweet, she shared her pre-nap snack with me when mine wound up on the floor, and she came over to comfort me when I got picked on (not infrequently, seeing as I had a GF).