Kindergarten Memories

A lifetime of memories shape who we are. Many years ago, several colleagues and I were developing a “Life, Career, and Educational Planning “ curriculum for adult learners. We knew that our community college students had often had unsuccessful experiences in school, and that what triggered fond memories for us, like the smell of crayons or a new blank notebook, would have the opposite effect on them. Our goal was to help them understand where the negative messages came from and build their confidence.

My memories of school are positive. It was a place I excelled and was from an early age regarded as a leader. But when I was discussing different kinds of memories with my writing group recently, I was surprised to discover that my memories of kindergarten were entirely negative. Since we moved in the spring of my kindergarten year, I have two distinct memories, but both were humiliating and still make me angry.

One day in my first kindergarten we came to school in costume. I wore my cowgirl outfit with a blue fringed skirt and vest. As we were skipping in a circle, I yelled ‘giddy up!” and the teacher told me to be quiet. I still remember thinking it was unfair. How could I be a quiet cowgirl? This was the first time I remember being silenced in school, but certainly not the last. In later years it wasn’t necessarily a matter of not speaking, but of not saying the “wrong” thing. The “wrong” thing challenged the teacher or prevailing thought – exactly what we wanted our students to do.

The first day at my new school, which was the day after we moved, the teacher had me stand up in front of the class and asked me to share my telephone number and address.  I knew neither. I have since forgotten every phone number I have ever had, but not KI 7-5622.  It has taken me years to be patient with “not knowing” – my own or others.

Such small incidents, such a large impact. I hope they have made me a better teacher and colleague.