I was in my old neighborhood this weekend when I passed by my old school, Gibbs Elementary. The memories. I looked over at the school as I always do as I passed it, but this time I pulled over. It was just after the rain and the little playground was glistening with puddles of water on the asphalt. No, there was no foam rubber to protect our little heads/shoulders/knees/toes and apparently there still isn’t. I stood on that playground and briefly went back to my first days of kindergarten. Gibbs was only right down the street from the apartment that we lived on E Street in Northeast DC. I even remember where my classroom was. It was 1972 and My Amanita got little Stevie dressed and ready for school.
(The entrance to my kindergarten classroom at Gibbs)
I don’t remember my teachers name, but I recall the classroom in some details. I remember the round tables, the coat racks and the location of the restroom. I remember going on field trips. I remember that we all had to hold hands. We had assigned partners for whenever we left the classroom. I remember holding hands with one little girl and rebelled at having to do so. I would retaliate by squeezing her little hands until she would cry in protest to the teacher. The teacher would scold me and tell me to behave. I would do it again and again until the teacher would threaten to spank me (Yes, they could paddle you back then). Thinking back, I wish that I could talk to that little girl so that I could ask her if she remembers me. I even wonder why I remember? Anyway, I would apologize for little Stevie's boyish and aggressive way of just saying, I like you. Will you be my friend? The memories. **smile**