THE

SCHOOL OF MY PAST

Everybodys gonna grow up, but before it happens, all of us know this moment of
carefreeness before, called the childhood . If im talking to you about this period, its
because all experiences we have lives, everything we have seen, everything we have heard,
everything we have felt at this moment, forge us and make us what we are now.
So the place i want write about in this essay is my primary school at Nice, in France.
One of my first memories when i was as a child is my mom walking me to school on the first
day of kindgarten of Jeanne dArc. I remember my feeling at this moment, i was scared and
so shy cause i didnt know anyone.
If my memories are exact, the main entrance was just a little wood door, I remember this
detail because when I saw it at the first time, my first question was: why the entrance is so
little while the exit is so big?
Once we were inside, the first place was a patio with beautiful garden wich bathed in a softly
light. This place linked the administration, the childgarten and the church. Actually, if we
kept to to advance strength, we arrived in a kind of sass which marks the entry both of the
church and little playground devoted to the younger. I liked this church because, with their
stained glass, she emanated something mystical. When we left the patio, we had the
impression that we were passing through a small confined space to a larger and totally open
space . Actually, courtyard was a big bitumen space with one three in the center, which one
we climbed on.
I can hear until now, the laughs and the hubbub of children within these walls, currently
running whole heartedly .
The playground was delimited by a row of colones in concrete painted in white behind which
one we hid to escape to the teachers when the bell rang to signal the beginning of the
courses.
This colones line and the long corridor separated the classroom grade 1 and the large
courtyard.
On the other side of the courtyard was a large covered courtyard in which one we practiced
the sport in a rainy day. I had the impression that the ceiling was infinitely high.
In my old school, old and young was separate stalls. Indeed, classes of 2,3 and 4th grade
were in a wing which was accessed by two stairs located in the small patio and another
staircase placed at the end of the corridor, next to the gate of the exit.
As for the classes of 5 and 6th grade, had an independent wing. When I saw them go down
the stairs, my eyes were full of admiration because they were the great ones of the school,
the ones who we loved and whose we respected because they are great, and I was impatient
to resemble them.
The classrooms were almost the same. It was large classrooms with an old tiles, we had
also steel lockers painted yellow at the back, coat hangers on a wall and large windows that
allowed the light to come in and reflect on the white walls. About the tables, it was old
wooden tables with holes were we can place the anchors.
I remember the big garden in front of the output gate, this place was really important for
me because when i was younger, it was the usually place where we played football or
marbles at the end of courses.
So many good memories and friends from that place; many of whom I am still close with
to this day.
In D.H. Lawrences poem Piano, the author describes a moment in time in which he
heard a piano playing in the background. However, something about this moment was
special; because it caused an uncontrollable flood of emotional childhood memories that
eventually cause him to weep like a child for the past.
For my case, i dont know if its the place which marked me or all my memories there, but
its the one of the most important places which makes me nostalgic about my past, a
careless past.