My Lop-sided Mom-Haircut, September 1954
I don't remember much about first grade, beyond the new box of chubby crayons, eight in a box, and the huge yellow pencil. Oh, and recess (of course), and the name tag on butcher's twine that I wore around my neck. All first graders wore them, which made us easy targets for the second-graders (who only lost theirs just three months earlier) to point at us, laughing about the tags.
The photo above is from second grade, which I remember much better. The dress, with the lace-trimmed collar that would not lie flat because my mother had starched the daylights out of it, was plaid, in shades of brown and cream and orange. Mama picked it out for me, and a green one just like it, only with a peter-pan collar. My preference was a red dress with little bouquets scattered all over, trimmed with white piqué collar and piping on the sleeves. But my heart's true desire was the pink party dress of sheer rayon, with tons of ruffles, and puffed sleeves with dark pink bows. We went home with the sensible cotton day dresses in brown and green. She did let me have the red plaid book satchel with the bright red plastic handle, though; perhaps as compensation for having to leave the party dress behind.
I remember the dark brown mary-janes that buckled on the outside edge, and the anklets with lace around the cuffs. I was so afraid Mama was going to buy those awful brown and white saddle-oxfords, or the lace-up ones like I had in first grade, which never stayed tied, causing me to trip more times than I can remember.
By second grade, the love of school that began the year before had grown into a passion, if one can have such a thing at age seven. When the weather changed toward fall, I could hardly wait for the first day and marked the calendar in anticipation almost as strong as when awaiting my birthday. I loved reading and spelling more than I did arithmetic. We were divided into reading groups named for birds, based on our skill levels. My group, the cardinals, were the top group, and our numbers grew during the year as other kids learned to read better. My teacher gave me a compliment one afternoon, telling me that I read very well, with inflection and good phrasing. When I got home that afternoon, I told Mama that Teacher said I could read with infection. (My mother loved to tell that story.)
What prompted these memories was my search for a book bag this evening, in preparation for my first day at college tomorrow. There are two or three of them somewhere in the house, maybe the attic, but my favorite is one Ex-B received a few years ago as a promotion through his company. It's constructed of tough nylon canvas, black with Microsoft's MSN logo stitched in white next to the rainbow-colored butterfly. I think it was meant for his laptop, but he gave it to me for my camera and lenses. I haven't bought my books yet, but I have put in it (so far) two wire-bound notebooks, my fountain pen with extra cartridges, a couple of pencils and trusty Staedtler sharpener, a spare rescue inhaler, about 50 paper clips, two clean handkerchiefs, my wallet with ID and lunch money, house keys, car keys, cell phone and my second pair of cheater reading glasses. Plus, all my hopes that I will do well and not be the oldest kid in class. Oh, yeah...an apple.
No crayons, though.
14 comments:
Godspeed, my friend! May the opening door lead to happy days!
I hope your thirst for learning is as infectious as it ever was. ;-)
I think I was more passionate at 7, 8, 9 than in any double digits...
Did you ever get a fluffy pink party dress?
I wanted one too.
Have a good first day at school!
I disliked and feared school when I was a child. I had a learning disability (unrecognized) which I gradually learned to compensate for, and when I grew up I became a perpetual student. Going to school was the only thing I was really good at.
You will excel as you have in the past, I am sure. Good luck in your new life. I have read some of your back posts to learn more about you, and I will enjoy following your progress in the world.
I kept wanting to spout out, Oh, I had two tone saddle shoes, and a red plaid lunchbox, and, and, and... !
You look like the kind of little girl I would have wanted to be friends with.
A fountain pen? You write with a fountain pen? So do I. As do the other civilized people of this world. (Not that I'm all that civilized, but we'll just ignore that little bit.)
The first few paragraphs about frills and furbelows have made me aware of how hopelessly ambitious I've been in trying to write about a woman's instincts and preferences. Especially since women's clothes play a huge role in the narrative. Perhaps I'll have to add a dedication: "To women the world over in the hope that I'm forgiven for not doing them justice."
At least there's a shared moment in the matter of the book bag. When I moved up a notch in the school system I required what we called a satchel (At that time I was unaware of the link with Louis Armstrong). Mine was leather and was never entirely free from the smell of the chopped-egg sandwiches that constituted one of my early lunches. Since the satchel was an emblem of school I never regarded it with any kind of affection except when I once used it as a sledge (which you would call a sled) on a steep icy street outside the school.
I think you can add a coda to your mum's anecdote. Infection is right, it's what you suffered following your early exposure to words and it's an ailment (which some would call an enthusiasm) that will never go away. Your post proves the point.
Having spent the last couple of weeks compiling an album of family photographs spanning five generations, I find myself increasingly drawn to old photographs. The young Crow and her mom haircut, is thought provoking, and touching. But that's the thing with old photographs. I hope that your first day back at school is not too hard.
i remember those saddle shoes as well...they were part of my school uniform for over a decade.
i am delighted for you as you get back at the school stuff.... you already have the two most important ingredients: an open mind and a desire to learn.
good on ya!
Go buy some crayons. Seriously.
I remember my very first day at school. Most of the other kids cried. I didn't.
I remember playing in the school sandpit, fascinated by the pleasantly squidgy things in it.........until I realised it was cat poo.
And I remember sitting on the floor, made of wooden blocks at assembly and watching a cockroach scuttle from hidey hole to another.
How exciting. I wish you all the very best with this new endeavor. I have a nice box of colored pencils if you need them.
Hope it's going well...
So.... how's it going?
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