Scrapbook Sunday - Sharing Memories - The Worst School Year Ever - Kindergarten

A Shy Little Girl
Imagine a shy little girl, eldest child, five years old. She lived in two countries and five homes before the age of three. Although shy she had successfully attended preschool for two years and had gradually gained some confidence in making friends and participating in groups. She was excited to start Kindergarten.

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First Day
Kindergarten visiting day arrived. The little girl wore her favorite dress. She entered to find a beautiful classroom with a large piano. The teacher instructed the students to find a seat. She saw a seat next to a girl she knew and went to sit down. That was the beginning of the end.

Doing Everything Wrong

Apparently the little girl did something wrong by trying to sit near her friend. She was loudly told by the teacher that she could not sit there and to move to another table. With this simple admonishment began a year of trying to please a teacher, who found fault everywhere. It was far too easy to do something wrong. Afraid to talk, the little girl received needs improvement grades and was referred for speech therapy. Who fails Kindergarten?

Finding the Good
Although the teacher was difficult, there were a lot of good memories from that year. The little girl loved to play with the blocks and the trucks and to color in the letter and number pictures. Snack and story time were always enjoyable as was recess, but music and piano time were not.

Blueberry Hill School
The little girl who was is me. I attended Kindergarten at Blueberry Hill School in Longmeadow, Massachusetts. Subsequent years were better. My Kindergarten teacher was older and probably old schooled. She decided to retire at the end of that year. Writing this I feel sad for her, even though it was the worst school year ever for me. 

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My First Best Friend
According to Google Maps, it was less than a half mile walk to school from my home. I thought it was much farther! My mother and sister walked over to pick me up after my first day of Kindergarten. On the way home, we met a mother and two daughters, who lived across the street from us. That was the day my sister and I met our first best friends. I remember shyly asking the girl how old she was and without saying a word she put up her hand with five fingers displayed. I was so happy she was my age. We became inseparable until the day I moved away in 1976. Meeting her was the best thing to happen in my Kindergarten year!

Happy Sunday!
Scrappy Gen
Let's Remember!

The weekly genealogy writing challenge, Sharing Memories, is provided by Lorine McGinnis Schulze of The Olive Tree Genealogy. Thank you Lorine! My special twist on Sundays here at The Scrappy Genealogist will include a heritage scrapbook page for each post.

Scrapbook Sunday - Sharing Memories - Was the car on two wheels?

The weekly genealogy writing challenge, Sharing Memories, is provided by Lorine McGinnis Schulze of The Olive Tree Genealogy. Thank you Lorine! My special twist on Sundays here at The Scrappy Genealogist will include a heritage scrapbook page for each post.

Getting My Driver's License: Was the car on two wheels?

Surprisingly my parents survived the six month period of teaching me to drive. There were a couple of events that we still laugh about today. The first was the story my Dad tells of being a passenger while I was driving down Elmgrove Avenue on the East Side of Providence. He told me to turn and I did. Immediately. Without slowing down. In my defense, he didn't tell me to slow down, he told me to turn. He says we were up on two wheels. I'm not so sure about that, but there was definitely a screeching of said tires. 

What Embankment?

Then there was the time I was exiting the highway onto Admiral Street in Providence with the whole family at my mercy; Mom, Dad and sister. I came off the exit just fine, but instead of turning left onto Admiral, I kept going straight. At a slightly elevated speed. Over a large embankment, into the air and landing in the parking lot of Union Paper Company. At this point I would like to remind my family that we all survived, unhurt, and it has given us years of laughs.

Parallel Parking

One benefit of learning to drive in a city is that you become an expert at parallel parking. I learned in a Datsun 210 hatchback. The tiny spaces on Thayer Street, where we hung out, shopped and ate, did not present a challenge. There were even smaller spots into which to squeeze downtown at the Providence Public Library. Alas, when I went to take my driver test, they didn't ask me to parallel park.

Happy Sunday on Monday!
Scrappy Gen
Let's Remember!

Sharing Memories - First Grade - Scrapbook Sunday

The weekly genealogy writing challenge, Sharing Memories, is provided by Lorine McGinnis Schulze of The Olive Tree Genealogy. Thank you Lorine! My special twist on Sundays here at The Scrappy Genealogist will include a heritage scrapbook page for each post.

First Grade would have to be a better year than the Kindergarten year. I was looking forward to a new and hopefully nicer teacher. We would get to learn to read and we would be staying for the full day.

My teacher was Mrs. (or Ms. or Miss, my memory does not specify) Connor and she was an angel. She was young and did teach us to read. I loved the little readers that we used.

Every day I walked to school with my best friend, Allyson. Yes, dear readers, we walked...in the snow and in the rain. We wore rubber boots that fastened and we had neat bubble umbrellas. For the first part of the year we walked home and back again at lunchtime. After the lunchroom addition was built, we ate lunch at school. 

The one thing I remember not liking about first grade was a boy in my class. His name was H--- [name ommitted to avoid hurting anyone's feelings :)] and he was I am sure just a silly boy with a lot of energy, but he was the bane of my existence. He tortured me. He wrote W's on wheels all over my desk. He chased me home and threatened to kiss me. He talked to me a lot. I was shy and I remember getting into trouble for talking with him. Can you understand the torture my six year old Virgo self endured? Maybe torture is overstating the facts a bit, but as I write I am right there back at the metal desk trying to erase the W's. 

I don't remember this boy in any of my other years at Blueberry Hill School in Longmeadow, Massachusetts. Maybe he moved, or maybe he moved on to another girl. Despite this relationship, I do remember first grade fondly. 

Happy Sunday!
Scrappy Gen
Let's Remember!