There was nothing slow about the move. We only had about a week of summer freedom left before I was about to experience something I had never experienced before. Public school. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. No longer would I be able be able to do school work in a time frame that suited me. No longer would I be able to rely on my parent's understanding and tolerance of me to make it through. No longer would I start my summer in early May and end it in late August. Now I would have to get up at an ungodly hour. Now I would have to take a school bus on a strange route full of strange kids. Now I would have to wear a uniform I hated. Now I would have to deal with many children who had grown up together and were strangers to me. Now I would be at the full mercy of teachers who weren't my parents. And I still had anxiety issues which complicated things even more. Life lessons were going to be learned.
That first day was tumultuous. My stomach was in knots from the moment I opened my eyes. I wanted to stay in the warmth embrace of the covers that draped over me. My pillow was suddenly my best friend that I was forced to rudely abandon. I was grumpy. The school had a dress code which for boys was navy blue or black khakis or dress shorts and navy blue, light blue, or white polos or dress shirts. Not only did I have to be up early, but I couldn't wear my favorite shirt with Bugs Bunny in a backwards cap slam-dunking a basketball. Nope. Just itchy, dull, second hand clothes that gave me another early reason to not look forward to public school.
We had to walk a couple blocks up the street to where the bus was to pick us up. My four other siblings, my Dad, and I all stood on the corner of the very busy Warren road and waited for the big yellow bus to come up the nearby brick road. There was no mistaking it when it did as its loud motor was a dead giveaway. I found out that we were the second stop which meant choice seats, but that didn't do a whole lot to change my perspective. The large, yellow can on wheels came to a halt with a loud squeal. The doors hissed as they swung open. I felt like I was entering a transport to a warped dimension that was going to leave me trapped in its chaos. Nope. Just a plain old school bus soon to be filled with noisy children who have way too much energy at this hour of the morning.
I saw my Dad wave goodbye and I returned a wave half heartedly. The whole ride I focused on memorizing the bus route. I wanted to be absolutely sure I knew where I was at all times in case anything went south. I watched where each kid got on, every turn the bus made, and every street it rolled down. There was standard child commotion on the bus, but I ignored it. Eventually, we arrived at the Nathaniel Hawthorne building.
This place didn't look much like a school at all. From the outside, it had the looks of an old storage/factory building. That's because this building was only a temporary location for Riverside Elementary School. They were in the process of completely rebuilding their previous building from the ground up and needed a place to operate for two years. Lucky me. Other than the grass and some trees out front, the building had a rough, somewhat in need of repair, parking lot. That ugly piece of asphalt was one day going to become hallowed ground, but not today.
I exited the bus and followed the train of children into the building. The classroom was not my first destination. Surprisingly, the school had enough funding to provide both free breakfast and lunch. Through the food line I went, grabbing whatever I was allowed, including the juice which came in fruit-cup sized containers with foil tops. I was not a fan of the packaging, but juice was juice, so I had to cope.
The bell rang to let us know we had to get to our first class. I hustled up the stone tile stairs as I did not want to be late for my first class. The doors to the rooms where thick, heavy, storage type doors and they made a loud bang if you closed them to hard. The one I entered was propped open to avoid this problem. Upon entering, I took a seat in the front row because I came in with the intention of getting straight A's and being attentive to everything. The room was laid out like a classroom with blackboards across the walls and decorations with math problems and items used in science. One could tell the teacher did her best to make a gloomy old office/factory room into a classroom. She was there to greet us as we entered and her name was Mrs. Morris.
Decorations and a welcoming atmosphere weren't going to be enough to convince me that she was the real deal. From my days in PA, I had heard a horror story or two from Zach about a teacher or two he had. So I rolled with a side of caution. Mrs. Morris had been at this teaching game for awhile and she was no rookie. She got bonus points in my book for making the first day about fun and not so much about hitting the books. However, there was still a whole year to go. One day wasn't going to win me over.
Now for a quick teacher breakdown. There were approximately two classes per grade. An advanced class and a standard class. I was in the standard class because they weren't sure if I was ready for the advanced having never been in public school before. Mrs. Morris was my home teacher meaning she handled a good chunk of our classes and we spent most of the day in her room. The advanced teacher for the 7th grade was Ms. Bentkowski. Our class saw her twice a day for English and Social Studies. Mrs. Morris covered Math, Science, and Literature. We would then rotate between different universal subjects throughout the week. Art was taught by Mr. Eagleeye. Music by Mrs. Jeric. Gym by Ms. Bodziony. And we had Library time which was led by Mrs. Tilow. These were all the main teachers I ended up having throughout my first year at Riverside. I would come to know many more through my next two years, but more on them later.
One thing that really impressed me right off the bat was how the principal, Mr. Pempin, was involved with the kids. This man made it his personal mission to know every child's name in the entire school. As the year progressed, he blew me away with how many names he knew. The second thing is that he gave up his personal time to be with the kids. Since this was a temporary building, all we had to use during recess was an empty, beat-up, old parking lot. No playground, no equipment, just our imagination and a ball or two if someone remembered to bring it. One or two kids always made sure to bring a football. Most of the 7th and 6th grade boys would partake in two-hand touch football. It consisted of one person snapping the ball and 10-12 kids rushing off down the parking lot yelling "here!" It was good, old fashioned fun, but there'd be a decent amount of arguing at times over who would be the QB. Enter Mr. Pempin. In a dress shirt and tie, he would come out to the lot and play full time QB, throwing the ball for both sides. Everyone loved it because if he saw the big play, he'd take it. He would also make sure to spread the ball around so most kids were able to make a play or two. That was usually not the case with a kid QB. I have plenty of schoolyard football stories that will be revealed later on.
Eventually, the 3 o'clock bell rang signaling it was time to go home. I made my way out of the building, made sure to find my four other siblings, and get on the correctly numbered bus. I once again watched the route carefully, trying to retain it while other loud and energetic children caused chaos on the bus. After what seemed like forever, the bumpy, yellow bus pulled up to Warren road. Dad was there waiting to greet us. The day didn't go as bad as I thought it would, but I still had 179 to go. My nerves did play a small part that day and would continue to do so for awhile, but I survived. Riverside would come to play a big role in my life over the next two years. And man oh man, it created some doozy memories and life experiences. And this is just the beginning.
