KINDERGARTEN–THE
FIRST DAY
Outside the
classroom door, I hesitate, unsure, anxious.
Softly crying, “I want to go home.”
Inside, a young
teacher. Slender, soft voice, pretty
hair, pretty dress. Still… “ I want to
go home.”
“All mothers
must leave. It will be fine.”
No. Not fine.
“ WANT…TO…GO…HOME!"
"Stop that
or you'll get a spanking."
I don’t like her. She’s shaking me and she’s not pretty. My new shoes slip across the floor as she
pulls me to a place on the rug.
“Noooooooo…..”
The other
children, all looking. Beginning to
sniffle, whimper, cry. Getting
louder. I’m louder still.
“HOME…WANT TO GO HOME!”
"Come
here!"
A different voice. Deeper.
Older. A giant in a dark dress. Stiff gray hair pulled back and steel gray
eyes behind steel-rimmed glasses. She’s
pulling me to the front of the room, to a chair where she sits. Lifting me up and over her knees. A brown leather strap in her hand, like
Grandpa uses to sharpen his razor. One
Whack! Across my bottom.
"Are you
going to stop that noise?” she asks, “Or do you want another spanking?"
Silence from the
other children. The giant and I look at each other. I don’t like her, either,
but I say nothing. Sniff back the mucus
and rub tears from my face. And still say nothing. All morning, I say nothing.
Just before
school is over, a summons to the principal's office. The giant again, sitting at a large desk.
"For being a good girl the rest of the morning,” she says.
bouquet of
flowers –
small hands hold
tightly
the wet stems
Presence, 2008
