Beginnings
My Childhood Introduction into A World Away from Home
I reflect fondly on my life as kindergarten student. I think back to my teacher, Ms. Jones. I loved Ms. Jones and her afro. I thought it was so cool. I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember I enjoyed being there for the most part. Knowing what I know about myself at this stage in my life, means I liked her, and I liked her class and, most importantly, I felt safe there.
I don’t remember the details that others do. As I am still best friends with my best friend of that time, I am not able to recount the facts that he is able to. I don’t remember the room. I don’t remember her voice, per se. I do remember her being though.
And so, I remember feeling comfortable in this space. As best I could be for the introverted child, I now know myself to have been. I remember going up to her desk, which was a big deal. Going to the teacher’s desk, for me meant a bout with anxiety. I suppose I was probably nervous about what to expect and wondered what she expected of me. I don’t remember any trauma from the experience and suppose she had something nurturing to tell me. I only remember smelling onions and thought, maybe she had a hamburger for lunch.
And perhaps this is one of the things that put me at ease with her. If she ate hamburgers I thought, “She must really be…
