My father took me to school on the first day. All of the kids were crying and screaming to go home. I told myself that I was not going to be a crybaby like the other kids. However, when the teacher announced that it was time for all the parents to leave, I cried and screamed louder than all of the other 5-year-old kids.
To this day, many decades later, I still remember her name: Helen Composeda*, who was another 5-year-old just like I was. Her mother was trying to drop her off and leave, but Helen was screaming bloody murder and wasn’t having any of that. I didn’t understand why she was crying, but in my 5-year-old mind, I didn’t connect the fact that being the first day of school was the problem In fact, I didn’t even realize that it was the first day of school for me either. I thought Helen’s crying was just like any other crying jag that kids often go through, so I ignored her, but the reason I still remember it is that she was so loud and so dramatic with it. There may have been other kids carrying on also, I have no memory of them at all, just Helen.
As for me, I had no problem whatsoever being left there, because right in the middle of the classroom was a pile of toys and children’s books and wooden jigsaw puzzles. From the second I walked in, that’s all I saw and all I cared about. Heck, the whole room with its tiny chairs just our size and the drawings on the walls geared toward us, I was in Heaven. Not only did I not cry, I was excited and glad to be there. I paid no attention to my mother at all, I knew that I wouldn’t or couldn’t have fun as long as she was there, so her leaving was in my favor.
One caveat about my first day reaction or non-reaction is that my mother had put all of us through preschool, and I have two elder siblings who were already attending school, so for me, it was a natural progression that one day I would do the same. I do not remember anyone, not my mother, sister, or brother ever saying a word to me about my “big day” coming up in the days or weeks or months before it happened. It may have been talked about, I just don’t remember whether it was or not. To me, I didn’t know it was coming and I didn’t know its supposed significance. Granted, I was that weird little kid who loved learning, loved school, so there were no waterworks from me.
Years later, when I was old enough to discover that many children cry and cause scenes on their first day of school, I reflected on Helen and her performance, it dawned on me the reason she had been bellyaching about back at kindergarten; she didn’t want her mother to leave her there! Duh! What a big ol’ baby she was, I thought.
Ok, even though I attended that same school from K to 5th grade, I have no other memories of Helen herself beyond the first day of school. When I was in junior high school or high school, Helen showed up again in the student body. I can’t remember if I was the one who brought it up, or another student, but someone piped up with something like, “Hey, aren’t you the girl who cried her eyes out louder than anyone else and wouldn’t let go of her mother’s leg back in kindergarten?” Anyone in the world could tell that Helen was sick of it being brought up, and hated being teased about it. I think her response was, “Yeah, I was 5, but I’m not any more; are YOU?”
*Even though I do remember her real name, I have changed it here for the sake of her privacy. It is not necessary for me to give her real name, so I have transliterated it into an alias.
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I can top that; we used hammer and chisel.
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Did you also cry when your parent(s) left?
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:(
Randy D 