Actually the “Not!” fits the slang of the time. I did start kindergarten in 1989. Since it’s back to school time and stuff I thought I’d post this. You know a lot of people have happy pleasant memories of Kindergarten, but not me. To me it was one giant mindfuck. “Kindergarten: one giant mindfuck” was a tentative title I had.

There were all these inexplicable rules. Like when the kids would hit you. I’d get mad so I’d hit them back. You were not allowed to hit back you just had to take it. I was just supposed to sit there and take it?! When I would try to explain myself the teachers would usually tell me “Don’t care what (name of other student) did I saw you do it”. (A similar thing happened to me in 7th grade)

Eventually I just got really paranoid and thought I was going to get in trouble for any little thing. Even things other students did that had nothing to do with me.

I had a hard time being around 30 kids who were all around the same age. Until then I had usually been the youngest and smallest one. There I was old and tall. Excluding the kids who were held back and there were quite a few of them in my class. I got sick a lot too. I was not used to being around all those contagious kids. I got stick so frequently I missed picture day and being in the class picture. My neighbor got jealous because I made new friends at school. She really should have been more mature about this since she was a 2nd grader at the time.

The way the classes were structured were strange. First I had “full day” Kindergarten. There were no AM and PM classes like a lot of schools have. And we “changed” classes. The other classes were English, science, and I’m not sure what the bilingual class was. Spanish? It was for Spanish speaking students. My class was the math class. The science and English teachers were really nice and understood me. I like their classrooms I think they were the original kindergarten classrooms at the school because they had really tiny toilets (to go to the bathroom) and a play kitchen area. The English class a really nice play house area with a kitchen and a play bedroom area and some play bunk beds. They were too small for the kids to lay in, but large enough t fit like a 20 inch doll.

I remember one of our first assignments was to draw a picture of yourself then they took a picture of you and attached it to the drawing. The other kids used to make fun of my drawings. Because I didn’t know how to draw things like the sun or hearts. I still can’t draw hearts very well. They look lopsided or something. Not pretty! I didn’t like that the crayons were fat and only had 8 colors. At home I had a nice box of 64 crayons that were small. I wanted to replicate the design on my shirt in my drawing. There were these 6 hearts on the front of the shirt that looked like somebody had freshly painted them and they were kinda drippy and a little glittery too. Each of the hearts were a different color including a pink one. When I asked where the pink crayon was I was just told to “Color lightly with the red one.” “Color lightly?” A kindergartner doesn’t understand that. If I could I’d wear that shirt today.

I was also a very lazy artist. I was not good at drawing hearts (still not) and balloons. They us told we could draw on our Pilgrim hats. So I drew lollipops since they were easy to draw it was nothing more than a circle and a line. Much easier than the hearts and balloons all the other girls drew on their hats.

My teacher was a huge sexist jerk. She would always make the girls clean up the mess the boys made. The best thing was when she went on maternity leave the long term sub who replaced her was great. She was kind and fair and when she left I missed her so much. When my proper teacher came by during the week before Christmas break I refused to hug her or tell her I missed her. Because I was happy she was gone.

Eventually all this spunk and vigor was beat out of me figuratively and literally.