Head Start
As a child, I started everything early: I was walking and talking before I was one. I started school when I was three. Yet, my kindergarten days did not last long. After a year, my parents yanked me out because the tuition was too much. So, yes, I am a kindergarten dropout.
I do not have very good memories for that school for many reasons. It was located on the second floor of an old residential building. The steep set of stairs that led up to the school from the street seemed like it had no end. Walking up and down it was a scary experience. Not only did the school have a kindergarten department, they also ran an elementary school in that small space. It was like a strange farm with tiny little kids planted at tiny chairs behind tiny desks packed in tiny rooms . . .
On my first day of school, my mom took me to my classroom to meet my teacher. I didn't like her: She looked a lot like the evil nanny in the movie Omen 2. My mom sat me down in one of those tiny chairs and said, "These chairs are too small for me. Wait here. I will go ask for a bigger chair so I can sit next to you. I shall return."
You guessed right. My mom did not come back.
After waiting for some time deemed long enough by a three-year-old, I started worrying about my mom. "Where has she gone to find a chair? Is she lost? Can she be lost? Boy, there are so many rooms here!" I decided to go help bring my mom back. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING? SIT DOWN!" A voice that sounded like thunder came from above. It was the teacher. She stared at me viciously, so I stared back firmly. "I am going to look for my mom." I said rightfully. "You go sit down! Nobody is going to look for mommies here. She is gone. We are going to have a class here." "What do you mean by my mom is gone?" I did not care what the teacher said. I only knew I needed to find my mom who might have gotten lost. "Mama said she would come back. My mom never lies to me!"
The teacher tried, but she could not make me sit down. So, she put me on a time-out at a corner by the door. I started crying. She told me to stop, so I cried louder. Next thing you know, she collected the little handkerchieves from my classmates, linked them together and used that to tie my wrists together and to gag my mouth. As a determined child, I demonstrated my displeasure by kicking the walls and the door.
The noises I made finally brought the principal. He said to the teacher, "You can't let her be so noisy. There are other classes going on." "My savior is here!" I thought. After a short discussion with the teacher, the principal took me with him down the hallway. "We are going to find my mom!" I thought I won. Wrong! The principal opened a door, shoved me inside and closed it quickly. It was the bathroom. He shut me into the bathroom!
I was quite ready to cry again, but was quickly distracted: There was a row of really cute mini toilets along the wall. Also, they had wooden toilet seats. I had never seen wooden toilet seats like these before! The white sparkling mini toilets almost looked beautiful to me. "Why don't we have a wooden toilet seat at home? I want to have a mini toilet like this, then I don't have to worry about falling into the toilet again. I also want to have a wooden toilet seat to go with it . . . " My little mind started drifting. "Hey, wait a minute. Where is my mom? I want to find my mom!!!" I went back to crying and kicking the door for the rest of the morning.
By the time my mom came to fetch me, I was a total mess. My eyes were all red and swollen. Tears were all over my little face. I was still sobbing. The teacher and the principal said all kinds of bad things about me. I gave them a mean look and a big pout in protest. They threatened my mom that if she could not teach me to stop crying and follow orders, I was not welcomed back to the school.
My mom carried me in her arms on the way home. "Why didn't you listen to the teacher?" she asked. "Where have you gone?" I asked back. "You said you would come back with a big chair. You did not come back. Where were you?" My mom admitted she went to the market and did other chores instead, but she never admitted that she lied. It was always "You should have listened to the teacher." Meanwhile, all I could think about was "Why did you lie to me?"
So you know, I started out as a sweet little angel. I was smart, curious and righteous. My mom lied to me, and the school ruined me.
I do not have very good memories for that school for many reasons. It was located on the second floor of an old residential building. The steep set of stairs that led up to the school from the street seemed like it had no end. Walking up and down it was a scary experience. Not only did the school have a kindergarten department, they also ran an elementary school in that small space. It was like a strange farm with tiny little kids planted at tiny chairs behind tiny desks packed in tiny rooms . . .
On my first day of school, my mom took me to my classroom to meet my teacher. I didn't like her: She looked a lot like the evil nanny in the movie Omen 2. My mom sat me down in one of those tiny chairs and said, "These chairs are too small for me. Wait here. I will go ask for a bigger chair so I can sit next to you. I shall return."
You guessed right. My mom did not come back.
After waiting for some time deemed long enough by a three-year-old, I started worrying about my mom. "Where has she gone to find a chair? Is she lost? Can she be lost? Boy, there are so many rooms here!" I decided to go help bring my mom back. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING? SIT DOWN!" A voice that sounded like thunder came from above. It was the teacher. She stared at me viciously, so I stared back firmly. "I am going to look for my mom." I said rightfully. "You go sit down! Nobody is going to look for mommies here. She is gone. We are going to have a class here." "What do you mean by my mom is gone?" I did not care what the teacher said. I only knew I needed to find my mom who might have gotten lost. "Mama said she would come back. My mom never lies to me!"
The teacher tried, but she could not make me sit down. So, she put me on a time-out at a corner by the door. I started crying. She told me to stop, so I cried louder. Next thing you know, she collected the little handkerchieves from my classmates, linked them together and used that to tie my wrists together and to gag my mouth. As a determined child, I demonstrated my displeasure by kicking the walls and the door.
The noises I made finally brought the principal. He said to the teacher, "You can't let her be so noisy. There are other classes going on." "My savior is here!" I thought. After a short discussion with the teacher, the principal took me with him down the hallway. "We are going to find my mom!" I thought I won. Wrong! The principal opened a door, shoved me inside and closed it quickly. It was the bathroom. He shut me into the bathroom!
I was quite ready to cry again, but was quickly distracted: There was a row of really cute mini toilets along the wall. Also, they had wooden toilet seats. I had never seen wooden toilet seats like these before! The white sparkling mini toilets almost looked beautiful to me. "Why don't we have a wooden toilet seat at home? I want to have a mini toilet like this, then I don't have to worry about falling into the toilet again. I also want to have a wooden toilet seat to go with it . . . " My little mind started drifting. "Hey, wait a minute. Where is my mom? I want to find my mom!!!" I went back to crying and kicking the door for the rest of the morning.
By the time my mom came to fetch me, I was a total mess. My eyes were all red and swollen. Tears were all over my little face. I was still sobbing. The teacher and the principal said all kinds of bad things about me. I gave them a mean look and a big pout in protest. They threatened my mom that if she could not teach me to stop crying and follow orders, I was not welcomed back to the school.
My mom carried me in her arms on the way home. "Why didn't you listen to the teacher?" she asked. "Where have you gone?" I asked back. "You said you would come back with a big chair. You did not come back. Where were you?" My mom admitted she went to the market and did other chores instead, but she never admitted that she lied. It was always "You should have listened to the teacher." Meanwhile, all I could think about was "Why did you lie to me?"
So you know, I started out as a sweet little angel. I was smart, curious and righteous. My mom lied to me, and the school ruined me.
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