My first two years of schooling were the only times spent outside of the parochial realm until I would reach college. Kindergarten and first grade.
The school was called E.J. Brown, and I am unable to find it on a map today. The elementary building was closed in 2004, and for the life of me, I can’t remember its exact location. I just know that it was far enough, and I was young enough, that I got a ride to school every day.
We carpooled. It was my first experience as a carpooler too. That’s a lot to go through for a five-year-old. Once I got to school, I had two teachers in that duration. Mrs. Eckert and Mrs. Barnes, Kindergarten and first-grade, respectively. I loved them both.
I have few other memories of that experience, save for a few. I tied Tommy Trick’s shoes for him one day, and I was over the moon for doing that. I also remember taking my beach towel to school and storing it in the lockers in the back of the room. We rolled them out on the floor every day for our naps. I’m not sure I ever fell asleep during nap time.
The other thing of note was my bangs. There was the occasion when my mother cut them too short. They were nearly at my hairline. I was so upset, I did not want to go back to school until they grew out. Of course, the absurdity of my solution was met with little regard.
When the carpool pulled up out front the next morning, I walked to that car sobbing uncontrollably. I can remember Mrs. Conner adjusting her rearview mirror in order to get a look at me as she drove. I am certain, to this day, that she was just as shocked at my bangs as I was.
About the same time as this was happening, we were having kittens at home. Our cat Fritz, a cat, mostly restricted to the outdoors and the basement, apparently was a Good Time Charlie. She came home knocked up. The first litter yielded seven kittens, as I recall, and I was allowed to name most of them. My favorite was Pounce de Leon, named after the explorer my sister Julie was studying in school.
Both of these memories, Kindergarten, and the kittens, came to mind because of this date, March 27.
In the year 1916, Susan Elizabeth Blow died on this date. She is known as the “Mother of the Kindergarten.” Blow opened the first successful public Kindergarten in the United States in 1873. She did much of her early work in the development of kindergartens without pay. In fact, the first year, she paid for all the expenses of the school. She was probably very kind to the little girls with bad haircuts and too much energy to settle down for naps.
By the time of her death in 1916, more than 400 cities had kindergartens in the public schools. She was only 72 when she passed of “natural causes.” But she had long suffered Graves disease.
The other notable event on this date occurred in 1513 when Spaniard Juan Ponce de León and his expedition first caught sight of Florida. It has been said that he was in search of “The Fountain of Youth.” But, I am sure, like most of the other explorers of that era, he came to conquer, spreading disease and death along the way. He certainly wasn’t searching for his namesake kittens.
Later in life, he would return on one of those exploration voyages, back to Florida. There was an attack by the Calusa, the indigenous people who made their home in southwest Florida. Ponce de León was shot by an arrow poisoned with the sap of the manchineel tree. He took it right in his thigh. The expedition retreated and sailed to Havana, Cuba, arrow and all. And old Ponce de León died of his wounds soon after.
From kittens to Kindergarten, I am always thankful when world history reminds me of my own world history.
Another reminder, that even though this place is wide and far, we are a part of its incidents and episodes.
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“Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.”
― Franz Kafka
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“The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem those who think alike than those who think differently.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche
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“Youth is wasted on the young.”
― George Bernard Shaw
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The bangs. The kind that made me cry. And cry.
