Abstract: School Days

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I sat at my desk and picked at a flap of dead skin still connected to my thumb,

the boy beside me thumbed through a skater magazine,

and the girl beside him twirled gum on her finger while she stared at the ceiling.

All of the other students carried on small conversations except the front row.

They sat upright with clean notebooks, and uncapped pens at the ready.

Another first day of school.

Years later, I asked myself “why did you hate school?”

Yes, by the third grade, I had enough bad experiences to justify the stance.

But ,why did I hate it from the beginning?

Day One, August 1985, Ms. Dawkins’ morning kindergarten class at North Springs Elementary school: hated it.

All I can remember are the words of a few older kids in my young orbit: school sucks.

And so, before I ever set foot in a school, I thought it was suppose to suck.

The teachers were suppose to be angry and rude- some were and some were not.

The subjects were to be boring and difficult to master- some are and some ain’t.

And the other kids are suppose to want to fight and cuss and steal- some did, most did not.

Poor little Nik.

He was so pushed around by strong opinions and harsh words.

To him, what carried weight and thusly importance,

were words of bitterness or anger.

Oh, what I regret the most- and only the Lord can heal- is what I let into my soul as a child.

Fortunately, the beat goes on. And, school is never closed.

Everyday is a day to grow and learn and find wonder,

for we were born in a place we will never fully understand.

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