Student NAME

Professor LaVielle
English 101 – Fall 2018
20 October 2018

"Excited, Crushed, and Shattered - A Kindergarten Experience"

Prior to kindergarten, everyone said that going to school would be one of the best times

of my life. Often, my cousins would talk about how much fun they had in elementary school.

My cousins would break into laughter as they reminisced about their playground experiences.

My childhood neighbors spoke highly of school claiming that school was better than being at

home. Around my family and my friends, school was never talked about negatively. After being

influenced by all of the feel good school stories, I was ready to have some school fun.

Unfortunately, I was faced with the disturbing reality that school can be cruel. And, even though

school was cruel, I learned how to be a positive contribution to others around me.

My first day of kindergarten is as clear to me as though it occurred yesterday. Being

excited to meet new friends made it hard for me to eat my breakfast. The butterflies in my

stomach swarmed around nearly making me sick. The anticipation of being asked to join play

dates with other children sent shivers through my body. Clearly, being an only child in my

family made it that much more exciting for me to meet other children. After breakfast, I climbed

into our car and headed off to school. The ride to school is only five minutes long but, it felt like

it took forever. As we drove to school, we stopped for a red light. The light stayed red for the

longest time which gave me anxiety. As we waited, my body began to sweat. At one point, the

notion to ask my mother if the light was broken crossed my mind. Suddenly, the light turned

green. Thankfully, we proceeded on our way.

 Upon our arrival, children could be seen lined up outside the school's front door from the

window of our car. The lines of students had distinct patterns, like lines of people waiting to get

on the roller coaster at the county fair. While gazing at the children, the car door slammed shut

causing me to jump in my seat. With a big smile and a calm voice, my mom told me it was time

to go. With my backpack in one hand and my mother's hand in the other, we headed toward the

school. As we approached the school, I felt the sun hitting my face. The sun was warm and

soothing. Suddenly, the school's roofline blocked the sun's rays which caused an unsettling

coolness to overcome my body. With each step toward the crowd, the noise from the bustling

children grew. The increasing noise made me nervous and excited all at the same time. Nearing

the school, a child could be heard crying as she waited in line. Why was this girl crying came to

my mind. After all, school is supposedly a safe place. No one told me that there would be

crying at school. After slowing down to stare at the girl, I could feel my legs become heavy. Just

then, my mother placed her hand on my shoulder and gently nudged me toward the door. In a

moment, we were inside the school. The slight pressure of my mother's hand brought me instant

comfort and reassured me that everything would be all right.

Proceeding toward my classroom, we passed the cafeteria. The aroma of cooking

hamburgers made me smile and think about summer picnics. The clanging of pots and pans

from the cafeteria, however, distracted my enjoyment of the delightful aroma. Once we passed

the cafeteria, a line of children standing outside of a classroom could be seen in the distance. As

we took our place in line, we were told to wait until the bell rang. While waiting in the hall, the

bigger school kids rushed by me with their backpacks flailing behind them. One of the

backpacks swung into my body causing me to feel a sharp pain in my leg. After getting hit, I

pushed myself up against the wall to avoid contact with other backpacks as they flew past me
which seemed like my only defense. The wall felt smooth and cold. While standing in line for

what seemed like an eternity, I was jolted by the ring of a loud bell. Instantly, the classroom

door swung open and the children pushed their way into the classroom. My mother released my

hand as I headed for the door. Once inside, an eerie silence came upon me like a low, floating,

dark cloud. The teacher greeted me and told me to find my name on a table and then sit in the

seat next to my name.

After moving from table to table, I finally saw my name which was staring back at me.

The dark cloud that I drug around in the room disappeared. Finally, I found comfort in sitting

down in my chair. Moments later, three children sat down next to me in the desks that were all

positioned into a square forcing us to look at each other. I remember greeting each of the

children with a big smile. But, unfortunately, none of the children greeted me back. Without

even glancing toward my direction, the other children began talking to each other and never

thought to say hello to me. Throughout the morning, the other children would talk and laugh

with each other. Sadly, I was completely ignored and left out of their conversations. When it

came time to share the crayons and paper at our group, the children grabbed my crayons and my

paper leaving me with nothing to do. Even during recess, the children in the playground

neglected me. I tried to talk to one girl. But, she just ran away from me. I felt awful. After

recess, the teacher had us tell each other our names and where we live and to say something

about what we like to do. As the students in my group gave out their information, they engaged

each other with enthusiasm and laughter. When it was my turn, they just started talking to each

other and ignored me. At one point, the only boy in our group called me a cry baby. I had no

idea what a cry baby was until I realized that I had tears flowing down my face that dropped onto

my desk top.
 By the end of the day, my ideas about school had changed. I remember pushing my teeth

into my lower lip until I could taste blood as I waited, painfully, for the bell to ring so that I

could go home. I looked at the clock thinking that it would move faster if I stared at it. When

the bell rang, I felt a great relief wash over my body. For me, the bell meant relief from the

worst day I could have imagined. After leaving the classroom, I walked rapidly through the

hallway like a desperate horse that escaped from its stable. I was frantically looking for my

mom. As I headed for the door, I could see my mother coming in to greet me. As my mother

approached, I ran into her legs and held her tight. My mother wanted to know why I was crying.

I told her that I was really glad to see her; and, that I really wanted to go home. On my way

home, my mom wanted to know about my first day at school. Although, I was filled with great

sadness, I told my mom that I had fun. Why I told my mom that I had fun still escapes my

reason to this day. For the remainder of the week, the three children at my cluster never invited

me into their discussions making me feel isolated and crushed. I had not met one friend at

school. I had not been invited to a play date. I did not play with anyone. I had no fun at school.

By the end of the week, my image of school was shattered. I told my parents that the school

children are awful and mean to me. I tried in the worse way to convince my parents to take me

out of school. After telling my parents about my terrible school experience, I thought I would

not have to return the following week.

After the weekend passed, I found myself back in school. My mother, however, spoke

with the teacher who moved me to another group of children. The new group of kids spoke to

me. This group asked if I would like to join their games during recess. My school experience

had definitely improved. Several months later, a new student from China joined our class. From

a distance, I could see that no one would talk to her. At recess, I noticed that the new girl was
excluded from playing any of the games with the other children. By the end of recess, the girl

had found a place against the fence of the school yard where she stood with her head down. The

memory of my first week of kindergarten experience started to haunt me. The following day, I

approached the girl at recess and asked if she would like to play jump rope with me. The girl,

with a huge smile on her face, said, "yes." Later that day, I asked the teacher if I could join the

new girl's table group. The teacher agreed. After that day and all the way through third grade, I

was friends with Skyla until she moved to another school that was located outside of the district.

Upon reflection of my kindergarten year, including its cruelty, a large part of my character was

formed. The character of who I am today tells me that if I see a fellow student who does not

have a smile on their face, then I will give them my smile and the friendship that follows with it.