Back to School
There has always been a large shift in our universe as we head back to school for another year-for all the years from kindergarten to college to teaching for 32+ years-my life has been filled with ‘back to school.’
Growing up in Sag Harbor ‘back to school’ meant a new pair of sneakers from Ivan’s Shoe Store on Main Street and then rushing home to see how they helped you run faster and jump higher. It meant the excitement of a new three ring binder from the ‘5 and 10’, a rubber strap that held your books in place and a new pencil case that fit into that new binder. I can still remember the excitement of seeing the “Back to School” posters in the store windows. If we were lucky, we got to pick out a new outfit from the Cracker Barrel.
“Back to School” held the promise of something new-new teachers, occasionally a new classmate, new routines, new subject matter-and new textbooks, which we were required to cover by cutting the paper from brown-paper bags-long before the invention of store-bought book-covers. I wonder if anyone covers text books anymore-or if they even have textbooks? Can you remember the feeling of holding a newly covered textbook?
In my day, I had never heard of nursery school or Pre-K, everyone I knew stayed home until the first day of kindergarten and even then, there was lots of crying. For some time, everyone went home for lunch and I’m not really sure when that changed. I imagine it was in the day of single working households.
The old Pierson building was home to all grades K-12, all housed in the one original building. There was a ‘girl’s door’ and a ‘boy’s door’ in which you entered the school accordingly, there was a carved sign above the door indicating each. Kindergarten meant milk and cookies-someone’s mom was always responsible for bringing in the daily bag of goodness. I remember my kindergarten classroom being the first door on the right. Kindergarten was half day and taught us mostly how to get along and play together.
Kindergarten Graduation was so memorable. We performed in a rhythm band with a student conductor and each of us yearned to play the triangle, at least I think we all did. There was also baton twirling and I honestly still remember the moves I learned then. I still have a copy of my kindergarten report card and thankfully I was successful at putting toys away, cutting, pasting and getting along. Mrs. Edwards was my kindergarten teacher, just so kind and patient.
When I was in elementary school, public elementary school, girls were required to wear dresses, even under our snow-pants during snowstorms. We had those red rubber boots with the elastic that pulled over a single white button on the side-these fit over our shoes. We sure managed to pack a lot of snow into those boots.
In third grade we learned to play tonettes. Remember “Hot Cross Buns”? What a sense of accomplishment we had in solving this mystery of reading music. This was preparing us to learn a band instrument in fourth grade-or at least let the music teacher see who were hopeful candidates.
It's funny how I may not remember what I had for dinner last night, but I don’t think I will ever forget the names of each one of my teachers and how they made me feel. It was always the teacher that took a special interest in knowing who I was that stayed with me-the one who’d let me come in during lunch to draw, the one that taught us spirituals that we would sing to the other classes. They were all such an important part of building our foundation and helping to carry us into the world. If close my eyes I think I can transport myself back into each classroom and sometimes maybe even where I sat. More perhaps, than what I learned all of those years, I remember how I felt- safe, challenged, and cared for.
