When I was 6, I went to Windcrest Elementary School in San Antonio, Texas.
On mornings after it rained, my older brother and I would walk to the bus stop and stare at the huge puddles that were filled with earth worms. We boarded the bus each day and chose a seat near the back, sitting close tonour friends who lives across the street. There was a speed bump on the way to school for which the bus driver never slowed down. So, that was way more fun if you were sitting in the back.
The library at Windcrest Elementary was my favorite place. The room was enormous to my little eyes. They had lofts stacked with pillows. You had to climb up a ladder to get to them, and once you were there, you could escape into your own world in your book. Huge murals showing trees and birds went from floor to ceiling. And the librarian sang Christmas carols with us each December.
It was in elementary school that I began to realize that the others kids don't like you if you know all the answers. Right around the time I got my first pair of glasses (pink plastic beauties), our teacher showed one of my assignments to the class and praised my perfect use of punctuation. I smiled, proud of myself, until one of my classmates yelled out about an error that she saw. It ended up not being a mistake, but I was mortified. I was so scared to draw attention to myself for pretty much the rest of my school career.
After school most days we would go home and play outside. The warm weather lasts a very long time in Texas. I remember walking around the neighborhood in shorts and a T-shirt while people were putting up Christmas lights. Sunshine year round meant lots of playing outside. Our neighbors across the street taught me how to roller skate in the driveway. My dad taught me how to ride a bike, never letting me venture beyond our cul-de-sac. My mom brought us popsicles in the back yard while we played make-believe. I have never used more calamine lotion than I did when we lived in Texas, but I have so many memories of going to bed tan, tired and happy.
2 comments:
For a second I was like, "hey, that's where I went to elementary school in San Antonio!" But no, I went to Woodlake elementary, but I swear I remember something about Windcrest from living there - I'll have to ask my mom. Still, that means we lived in San Antonio at least at overlapping times; I lived there from 86 to 89.We were probably in the same stake, or something. Cool, Julie. Oh, and I was also 5 when my little brother was born. We're like the same person. :)
See? You and I were meant to be friends. I had pink glasses, too! Though mine were wire-rims with tiny green stripes, and I wore them all the way down at the tip of my nose. A really good look, I think. And the library of our elementary school was like a sanctuary to me--I was obsessed with the carpet squares we'd sit on at story time, and the little drawers in the card catalogs, and the little laser pen used to check out books. My librarian chose me to help her at check-out time when I was in 5th grade, perhaps because I hovered long enough to make her wish she could give me something to do! I still get a thrill when I think of the "beep" sound on those books on tape that told you to turn the page, or the sound of the word "microfiche." Years ago my elementary school was torn down (it was oooold) and alumni were invited for one last walk-through. But I was here in UT and couldn't go, and I seriously feel a little choked up over not getting to walk through the library one last time! My stepdad hopped the fence and snagged a few bricks for my sister and me to keep. We're a very sentimental family! (But my mom AND aunt went there, and one of my aunt's teachers, a close friend of my grandma, was still teaching when I was there a sa student. You can't help but feel sentimental about that!) Sorry--this is the longest comment in the history of EVER.
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